Scarlet Fever and Scarlet Coats
by SixThings
Summary: A case of scarlet fever ravages the town of Meryton and changes the fates of the Bennet family and other local families. Yet Mr. Bingley and the militia still move into the neighborhood. How will the story unfold? With a few original characters as well.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a family member near death's door cannot but change the members of the family.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were sitting together one evening, and for once, by themselves, and not surrounded by their children.

"Mr. Bennet, have you heard the news?" said his lady to him.

"No, my dear, what news do you have to report?" He looked up from his book.

"That Netherfield Hall has been let! I believe it may indicate that there is an end to these troublesome times that the neighborhood has faced." Her face glowed with excitement and shown with a rosiness above the stark black of her dress. The glow took some of the years off of her face and for a moment, the former beauty of Meryton could be seen in her features.

"Too true, my dear. Though it cannot really brighten our family troubles," his face looked grave as he looked down. No rose bloom graced his cheeks and his dark eyes held a world of worries and sorrow.

"Well my dear, it has been let by a young man from the North. Mrs. Long reports that he is young and single. Perhaps he may consider one of the girls!" Mrs. Bennet continued in a cheering voice, looking down at her stitching.

"And I suppose you wish for me to visit him? Does it not seem too soon after losing our Mary to be thinking of marriageable young men for our remaining daughters?" He did not look up from his book.

"Mr. Bennet, the death knells rang over a year ago. I think it is time we consider that we need to move on." Her eyes sought his in a plea that said more than her words.

"I, for one, cannot forget that day that she was lost to us, my dear." He caught her eyes, looking over at her, trying to say things with his eyes that he could not say with his voice.

"Nor I, Mr. Bennet, nor I. I have loved all of my children. But we have four other daughters to consider. And Lizzy has just come back to us after being gone for most of that year. We need to consider them," she continued on. She pursed her lips and pursued her line of thought with her husband.

"Perhaps you are right my dear." But he did not sound convinced.

"Consider…"

Mr. Bennet interrupted. "This seems to be your favorite word." And he smiled briefly.

"Yes Mr. Bennet, consider that Jane is now almost two years past twenty, and no matter how beautiful she may be, beauty does not last forever. And Lizzy…"

"Yes, my poor Lizzy." His shoulders sagged and he looked back down at his book, though not because he was reading.

"Poor Lizzy has recovered, but her hair will take so long to grow back. And her injury: I fear no man will take her now." Mrs. Bennet shook her head sadly and bent over her stitching again, pulling tightly at a stitch.

"I doubt it; it may make a marriage more manageable if she cannot hear what her husband says. Besides she says she still has some hearing in her one ear and seems to be slowly recovering more and more hearing." Mr. Bennet's voice brightened for the first time and some semblance of his old humor snuck back in. "And our Kitty, well Kitty seems to have settled down and is considerably less silly than she once was," he added. "I never thought I would think to see her 'less silly,' but there it is."

"Our Lydia is still a sweet, joyous girl. This period of mourning has been such a strain on her. It is too bad that her formative years had to be marked by losing a sister." Mrs. Bennet enthused about her youngest, and still favorite, child.

"That is one of the lessons of life." And his face showed that he did not believe his wife's views on their youngest with his firmly-set lips. "So you wish me to visit this new tenant of Netherfield Hall?" he brought his wife back to the point.

"We have had no balls or assemblies in the neighborhood for over a year. Families have been barely visiting with the fever passing through. It will be nice to have things return to normal." She put on her best alluring smile as she winked at him.

"Nothing will be normal with so many in the neighborhood affected." He looked at her sternly. "But I will visit this new neighbor."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There was a fuss at the breakfast table the next morning. While Lydia and Kitty did not notice, Jane immediately noticed that her mother was wearing a lavender dress.

"Why Mamma, you have decided to stop wearing full mourning! Has it been a year?" Jane asked openly, smiling, as she looked up from her breakfast when her mother walked in the room. Lydia and Kitty glanced over from their conversation in astonishment.

The three Bennet sisters had their mother's blue eyes. Jane and Lydia had blond tresses, while Kitty had dark ones. Jane was definitely the beauty of the three and her intelligence and sweet disposition helped to add to her attraction. Lydia's _joie de vivre_ added, perhaps, to her appeal, as well as her youth.

"Does this mean there will be balls again Mamma?" asked Lydia. "Will I finally get to go?" Her delight at the prospect of being out in society was evident on her face.

"Oh Mamma, you did not let me come out until I was over 16!" pouted Kitty instantly looking from her younger sister to her mother.

"Girls, we will have to see what the Fall season will be like, so many of our local families have been affected, that there will not be many social events, I fear," sighed Mrs. Bennet, " but we, perhaps, need to set the example for the neighborhood and begin to start our Meryton society on a track back to normal."

"What is this discussion of things that are normal?" smiled a stunningly beautiful woman who walked in arm-in-arm with another young woman. Both were around the same height, with beautifully balanced figures. Both women sported shortly-cropped hair that was laced through with a ribbon in an attempt to make it more feminine. The questioner, Catherine Parks, had a classically beautiful face, blond hair and beautiful dark eyes. The other woman, the last Bennet daughter, was beautiful, though not in direct comparison to her friend, and had dark hair but equally entrancing dark eyes.

Elizabeth Bennet looked at the group and then at her friend as if she had missed something. She hated missing part of a conversation and found her hearing loss extremely frustrating.

Jane instantly knew that Lizzy was feeling left out and raised her voice. "We were talking about the prospect of the Fall season," she announced to both women, "and of perhaps life returning to normal."

"I do not see how things will ever be 'normal' again with both Mary and Charlotte gone." Elizabeth sat down at the table without bothering to go to the sideboard to select her breakfast. Catherine stayed standing when Elizabeth's arm disengaged itself from her own. The smile faded from Catherine's lips.

Again Jane knew the distress that clouded the face of the other tardy breakfaster. To her surprise, Kitty stood up and took Catherine's arm and led her to her seat.

"I have to help my fellow Catherine!" She called out to the table, though directing a look at Elizabeth, and helped Catherine sit down. Kitty went to the sideboard and prepared two plates of food and brought them back to both women. Catherine expressed her thanks, but Elizabeth was silent and simply stared at her plate. Kitty seated herself again.

"My sweet Katherine! What a big help you are!" Gushed Mrs. Bennet as she watched her children and their visitor. "Helping poor Catherine because she is too blind to see, you are a sweet, sweet dear!" Most of the table winced at her words, but no one said anything to squelch her conversation. "We are so fortunate that Elizabeth found such a great friend in Miss Parks when she was sent away to that sanitarium to recover from the fever. And they make such an, _interesting_ pair, one blind, the other deaf. Almost as if between the two of you, you make one whole woman!"

"Though I am sure what a man truly wants is a woman who is mute," said Mr. Bennet who walked in, with a book under his arm. Elizabeth smiled up at him, their dark eyes meeting in amusement. He had learned how to naturally project his voice so that she could, at least, always hear what he had to say.

"Good morning Papa," she said to him, and then began, finally, to nibble at her breakfast. He smiled at her, then at Miss Parks and seated himself with his food and his book.

"Oh my dear Mr. Bennet! You are such a great father!" Expressed Mrs. Bennet. Her daughters and Miss Parks looked at her expectantly.

"He is to visit the new neighbor you know, the one Mrs. Long told us about!" She waved her hands in the air excitedly. "He agreed so last night."

"Oh Papa, do you think he is handsome?" asked Lydia who clasped the side of the table as if to steady herself. "I could only marry a handsome man!"

"Oh hush Lydia," Jane scolded. "You are too young to know what you want."

"I am not!" She countered," Mamma was only seventeen when she met Papa."

"Yes, but you are still only fifteen," pointed out Kitty, who had two years on Lydia. Before the loss of Mary, she would probably have argued for Lydia's emergence into society, and been on Lydia's side of the argument. But the loss of her older sister Mary had affected her more than anyone could have anticipated given that Mary and Kitty were never close.

"Yes, but I will be sixteen in the spring," began Lydia.

"We will talk about it later. I want to eat my breakfast in peace. After-all, I have a social call to make." Mr. Bennet's statement was enough to make the room quiet down.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mr. Bennet paid his visit. He did not, despite all the questions put to him, offer up any information about the new neighbor. The Bennet girls knew, from a visit to their Aunt Philips—who lived in Meryton—and another visit from Lady Lucas and her daughter Maria to them at Longbourn, that his name was Mr. Bingley. They knew that he was reasoned handsome, road a fine black horse and was to have his sister come and live with him and help keep his house. He had apparently come from family in the North, been living in London for some time—had inherited a fortune made in trade just a generation ago—but that he had a large fortune now and intended to live the life of a gentleman. He had several sisters, and they all made an appearance at Netherfield during the coming weeks, but only two were to stay: the unmarried one who was to keep his house and another married one and her husband. The discussion of Mr. Bingley's family situation was enough of a topic of conversation to keep Meryton talking for a fortnight.

What no one in the neighborhood could reason was why he had chosen Netherfield to let when the neighborhood had been plagued with the fever the past year; they reasoned that any stranger must want to keep his distance. But, Mr. Bingley was exactly the topic of conversation that the neighborhood needed to help recover from their collective gloom.

Over a year previously, a family on the Goulding's estate had taken ill. No one had thought much about it, as people took ill so often. But then families on estates and families in town took ill, and the poor apothecary found himself worked day and night, and the surgeon from the next town over was called in to help. Meryton did not have a resident physician.

The local parson, Reverend Vickers, found his hands full with charitable work, as many of the women in the parish refused to help visit the sick with fear for their own safety. A few, like Elizabeth Bennet, Charlotte Lucas and Amy Goulding, carried on. Elizabeth often entreated her sisters to help her out in carrying parcels of food to those families who were suffering who lived on the Longbourn estate. And on the day she broke out with scarlet fever had pleaded with Jane to come, but been refused. Jane had claimed she was busy helping her mother, but had actually been fearful of contracting the fever. So Elizabeth had cajoled her next younger sister, Mary, into trudging the mile and a half across the estate to deliver soup, bread and a kind word.

By the day's end, Elizabeth's body was bright red with scarlet fever and her head burned. The next day Mary was tucked into bed next to her with the same symptoms, and the family feared that their second and third daughters would share the same fate as those of the Stone family children, all six, who had been laid to rest in the Meryton cemetery within a week of Elizabeth and Mary's visit.

Jane, Kitty and Lydia went to stay with Aunt Philips in Meryton while Mrs. Bennet proved she did have love for all of her children and nursed her two stricken ones. Mr. Bennet, usually not one for the sick room, still found that he could visit and read to his children.

Mary, however, did not recover. On a bright, warm day in September, Rev. Vickers said a beautiful service for her and the bells in the Meryton church were rung to note her passing. Two days later, he performed the same service for their friend Charlotte Lucas.

Charlotte Lucas was a particular friend of the Bennet family, though she was a few years older. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet could not bear to tell Elizabeth about her friend while Lizzy was still so ill; so many months went by before she knew the fate of her friend.

Amy Goulding, who was exactly the same age as Lizzy, became ill after Elizabeth and Mary did. She was the only daughter in a family of sons who were all away at school. Amy's father had family In London who knew of a new type of health facility called a _sanitarium_. It had an on-staff physician and was reckoned the very best option for her recovery. Mr. Goulding planned to send Amy there forthwith; but being a good neighbor he also called on the Bennets.

Within a day the two young women were carefully packed into the Bennet carriage, accompanied by Mr. Bennet and the old Goulding housekeeper, as no young female servant was willing to be too near the sick women for fear of the fever, and they were carefully taken to Kent with their parents' most fearful wishes for their lives, no matter the expense.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Priestwood Green Sanitarium was located in a new building along the London road in a town called Addington in Kent. It was not actually located in the woods that bore its name. It had been founded by a gentleman, Mr. Benedict Markham, who had studied with the Royal College of Physicians. Somewhat eschewing the gentlemanly life of leisure and injunction to never work with one's hands, he founded the sanitarium in the hope to bring relief to those who suffer. He employed a staff of surgeons and apothecaries who performed most of the care-taking work, but Dr. Markham still consulted with his patients and administered 'physics' or medicines in the hopes of curing them—or at least relieving their symptoms. His older brother and sisters were mortified at his choice in life.

So to the Priestwood Green Sanitarium went Amy and Lizzy. And under Dr. Markham's care, they recovered. Amy Goulding recovered fully, with no ill-effects of having scarlet fever. By Christmastime she was able to come home to her family and to the approbation of the neighborhood, who needed a bright spot of news. While the fever seemed to have run its course, people's memories run long and it was hard not to fear that at any moment it might return and wipe out them all. So to see Amy Goulding in good health, with plump cheeks, and bright eyes did the whole town good.

In early December, before Miss Goulding had come home, Mr. Bennet went to visit Elizabeth at Priestwood Green; he was surprised at the thin and somber creature that sat wrapped in a shawl by a large fire with a few other residents. Amy Goulding was in the parlor as well, and looked her usual, before-illness self and the difference in how much one had recovered versus how little the other had was very sobering to him. He decided he could not impart the news about Charlotte to Elizabeth as he had planned to, not yet.

"And how are you getting on with the other residents?" he asked. Such a general question, as if she was a new acquaintance.

"All right Papa. They treat us very well, and Dr. Markham is quite the gentleman you know. I do wish there were more to read."

"I will pack up some books when I get home and send them to you. Amy, I understand you are to be going home soon?" Mr. Bennet turned to Miss Goulding who was sipping tea.

"Yes, I am very anxious to be home again with my family. My brothers will be finishing up their studies for their respective terms and we shall have the merriest of Christmases!" She smiled. Then perhaps she thought about the Bennet's first Christmas without Mary as she looked at Mr. Bennet's black armband. She frowned down at her tea cup and said no more.

"Your hearing, my dear, does it get worse or better?" He asked hopefully. He was seated on her left so he could be sure to be understood by her.

"It has, at least, stopped getting worse, Papa. That is something," a smile like something of the old Lizzy was projected towards him. "And I miss my hair." She ran a hand over the short length of hair on the top of her head. In three months' time, her hair was only about an inch long. "I don't understand why the surgeon thought the need to cut it all off."

"I know!" Laughed Miss Goulding as she tilted her blond head back and forth, it shown in the light from the fire. Her hair, also, was only about an inch long.

"So there is hope for me?" piped up a voice from the sofa.

"Papa, this is Miss Catherine Parks. She is new here." Catherine's head was newly shaved, yet she did not wear a lace cap to hide her baldness as most of the other residents did. Her beauty was overwhelming, even with her bald head. Mr. Bennet suddenly felt himself wishing he were a younger man. They nodded their introductions.

"You are beautiful even without your locks," he could not help himself saying.

"Funny," she laughed, "that is what Dr. Markham says as well."

Mr. Bennet thought about asking if Miss Parks suffered from scarlet fever as well, but then realized that was too impertinent a question. He gazed at her beautiful face a moment longer, then turned back to his daughter. He and Elizabeth returned to discussing the news of the family and Meryton, and he was relieved to see her come out of her shell and to be able to see more of his beloved Lizzy.

Later, he was able to speak privately with Dr. Markham.

The doctor was a gentleman, having grown up in a wealthy family. Being a younger son and having been sent to school with the idea of making a living in the church; he had shocked his family by his interest in medicine. The Markham family felt that medicine was too much like work, and he was, in general, considered an outcast in his family. He still kept on good terms with his younger brother who was a Colonel in the army. Colonel Cornelius Markham seemed to understand Benedict Markham's passionate side. Because it was his passionate side that led him to feel that in studying medicine he could bring relief to suffering.

Dr. Markham told Mr. Bennet that he feared that Miss Bennet's remorse about the death of Mary was hindering her recovery. Physically, she had completely recovered from the fever, but that her appetite had not returned and she seemed little interested in her usual pursuits. He discussed how, at first, he was not sure if her slow recovery was because she had been ill a few days longer than Amy, before they had been able to begin treatment. But as the weeks, and then the months passed, it became evident that her spirit seemed to be fighting against her cure. Her body had been rid of the fever, and while it had affected her hearing—taken it completely in her right ear and damaged the left—that her improvement was being hampered by her desire to not improve.

Mr. Bennet remarked that she did indeed seem to not be in her usual spirits. The doctor feared that if she did not recover her usual outlook on life, she might not ever recover. He was unsure how to lift her spirits, but felt that she should remain at Priestwood Green and not return home least being at home bring on additional sorrows and perhaps an even more mournful outlook. Mr. Bennet agreed.

For Lizzy, once her head had cleared of its burning fever, could only process the guilt at cajoling poor Mary to accompany her on the fateful trip to the Stone family. Her sorrow at the loss of Mary was great. The death of any family member was a great weight that she felt would consume her, and to add to that the feeling that it was her fault made her normally lively outlook turn into a grim one. Elizabeth could not wish to recover from an illness that had also taken a beloved sister. Her feelings were always intense, whether in joy, anger, outrage or sorrow.

Mr. Bennet left his beloved child in Dr. Markham's hands and had returned home with no idea of when she would be returned to them, in body and spirit.

The Bennet family, therefore, had still been uneasy about Elizabeth in December, even when they rejoiced with the Goulding family as Miss Goulding came home for Christmas.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mr. Bingley returned the visit from Mr. Bennet. The women of the house only caught as much a glimpse of him as they could from the upper hall or the front windows. He rode his, by now, famous black horse and visited with Mr. Bennet in his study above a half hour.

Jane thought him very handsome. Lizzy chided her for such an observation given that she had scolded Lydia a few weeks back.

"But he is handsome, from what I can observe. He did not wear a hat and so we were very able to observe that he has a very handsome face. One does eschew what nature has entailed Lizzy," Jane argued.

"So then Catherine does not need to feel sorry about her pretty face?" She looked from one beauty to the other. Her point had been to needle Jane about not being the only beauty in Hertfordshire anymore. Elizabeth still wore lavender and gray while the rest of her sisters had moved out of mourning colors. While she had been at Priestwood Green she had not worn mourning while she was in the ravages of the fever and its recovery, so she felt like she was making up for mourning Mary now. Still, she felt that her family was too ready to move back into society and forget that they were now one short.

"You see Jane; neither of us need worry about our pretty faces. We have been given a gift from God, and like all gifts, need to use it wisely," said Miss Parks from her place on the sofa. Jane came to sit by Catherine and clasped her hand.

"Thank you Catherine. I sometimes feel that Mamma spends too much time talking about my face winning me a husband, but it is true that I should not be blind to the fact that is one of the advantages I do have to offer." The two squeezed hands.

Perhaps they both felt that it was a burden as well, to be the designated beauty in the family. And to have the pressure of 'making a match,' in order to better the family's situation.

For the Bennets, their father's estate was entailed, in lieu of male heirs, on a distant cousin. Their mother's fortune of four thousand pounds at her marriage did not provide sufficient income to provide for the daughter's dowry now. And their father had not saved enough over the years to supplement it. The Longbourn estate provided an income of only two thousand pounds a year. Mr. Bennet had always lived within his means, but he always thought to father a son—to cut off the entail—and to help provide for his widow and daughters. Now the burden seemed to be on Jane, with her handsome face, to marry well. A burden to find a husband with a large income who would be happy with a wife with a pretty face, and a husband who had a station in life that would introduce the other daughters to men of equally high status.

Catherine Parks' situation was, perhaps, more desperate. While Mrs. Bennet had found it hard, at first, to have her in the house given her beauty, her situation at home was bordering on frightful to Lizzy and Jane who had only known a loving home. Mr. Robert Parks was a landed gentleman of an estate in Somerset of many generations. He had two children: Marguerite, the oldest and Catherine. His estate allowed him to leave the property to his daughters, unlike Mr. Bennet. However, Mr. Parks was not a man to live within economical means, and many years of making poor choices left him little choice but to retrench. At the unpopular advice of his attorney, he leased out his family estate, St. Gregory's Abbas, and moved with his daughters to Bath. Shortly thereafter though, Catherine had contracted brain fever and she had been removed to Priestwood Green to recover. It was one time where her father's habit of 'damn the expense now, we must have it' proved to be a wise choice. It had probably saved her life.

Between Catherine and Elizabeth there formed a close friendship. In Catherine, Elizabeth found a reason to hope and to live. For it was in Catherine's nature to keep carrying on, no matter what. Despite the loss of her sister and her limited hearing, Catherine encouraged Elizabeth to carry on, and to find new strength in each day. In Lizzy, Catherine found a love of family that she did not have at home. Her mother had died shortly after her birth, which seemed to have left her father bitter and her sister permanently sad. Her sister Marguerite was seven years older which made for a sister who was more of a mother figure than a companion. Not that they did not share in each other's joys and sorrows, but the age difference had not allowed for the closeness that Elizabeth had with Jane and Mary or Kitty and Lydia even.

The Bennet family was slowly encouraged as letters, which had been almost unheard of before Christmas, started to list people and places again rather than just give health updates. And as was her nature, Elizabeth began to comment particularly on the idiosyncrasies of the people around her. She began to observe again as she began to heal.

By the end of February Dr. Markham felt that Elizabeth was safely on the road to a full recovery. When it became apparent that Miss Parks' fever had severely diminished her eyesight—though so many people just referred to her as blind—a solution for her needed to be found. And so Miss Bennet and Miss Park agreed to be each other's eyes and ears. It was a far better solution than hiring a companion or servant to help out Miss Parks or Lizzy, and helped to further both of the women's recovery. They left Priestwood Green together to visit Miss Parks' family in Bath for the spring. And in early July, Elizabeth Bennet finally came home to her family, bringing her friend with her.

Lizzy looked at her sister and her friend on the sofa. "Well, I will allow you to think him handsome Jane—as you both have corrected me about handsome faces—and I am sure we will find out more about him at the Meryton ball."

The Meryton ball was to be the first local gathering in over a year; and the whole neighborhood, well most of its residents, were looking forward to it with eagerness. Many young ladies had purchased new gowns and eagerly perused fashion plates in an attempt to discern the latest hair styles.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

All of the principal families were in attendance, and Sir William Lucas stood at the doors as was his role as unofficial statesman for the town. The Bennet brood made their way into the room slowly as Mrs. Bennet had to greet every lady, as she exclaimed over new fashions and ribbons, and patted hands or elbows in sympathy. Elizabeth kept a careful hold of Catherine's arm as they walked in to find seats. Neither one considered dancing: Catherine, because she could not see well enough to, and Elizabeth because she felt she was still in mourning. So they secured seats that afforded them a good view of the dancing and the layout of the assembly room.

Mrs. Bennet and the rest of her family stayed near the entrance anticipating the arrival of Mr. Bingley, the guest of honor: as everyone in the room was considering him. He arrived soon afterwards. He was a handsome man, as the fathers in the room had known, and their stealthy daughters had found out. He had dark blond hair and greenish-gray eyes that twinkled, even across the room. In attendance with him was his sister Miss Bingley. She was a fashionable woman, who shopped only at the best London shops and wore an exquisitely cut gown. Their other sister, Mrs. Hurst was also fashionably attired, and the eyes of most women in the hall drank in all of the details of both of the women's gowns, from the cut of the bodice and the sleeves, to the detail of the ribbon and lace. Mr. Hurst looked gentlemanly enough, but there was also another gentleman that no one had heard about; no one knew of Mr. Bingley having a visitor until he walked in the room. He was introduced by Bingley as 'my friend and acquaintance Mr. Darcy.'

Mr. Darcy was very tall, with dark hair and eyes and was more handsome than his friend. A report shot through the room within five minutes of his introduction of his having a large estate in Derbyshire and of being extremely rich. Suddenly all the women in the room turned their eyes from the lace on the gowns of the sisters to watch Mr. Darcy walking about the room. He was admired openly by young lady and matron alike. Mr. Bingley made his way around the room, with Sir William as his host, to meet all the principal people and left his friend to his own devices. Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy traced through the room until they were not too far from where Elizabeth and Miss Parks sat. The couple made no attempt to follow Bingley, though his married sister and her husband did trail along behind Bingley and Sir William.

When the music commenced, Bingley lead Maria Lucas out onto the floor. Miss Lucas was now the oldest Lucas daughter, with the passing of Charlotte. She was nineteen and had been a friend of Mary Bennet's. While Charlotte had been plain, Maria was plump and pretty with golden curls. She was sweet and amiable, but empty-headed. The sisters had been such an interesting contrast. Charlotte plain, but smart and well-read. Maria pretty, but not interested in things beyond dresses and gossip. At least John Lucas, the oldest son and the heir, did not worry that Maria would be an old maid and burden him with her keep. As soon as their sets were over Bingley released Maria to Lady Lucas and descended on the Bennet family.

"Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Katherine, Miss Lydia." He bowed to each woman in turn. The women all smiled as they curtsied to him.

"Miss Bennet, if you are free, would you dance with me?" He turned and held out his hand to Jane. She nodded her head, and then smiled as he led her to the floor.

"Oh my dears! Did you see that?" Mrs. Bennet cried far too loudly. "He singled out Jane right after he did the obligation dance with Maria Lucas. I do wonder that he does not fancy her, well how could he not!" she cried.

Mrs. Bennet spotted Mrs. Long sitting with her two nieces and moved over next to her to gloat.

Lizzy saw the exchange and huffed under her breath.

"What is happening Lizzy? You promised to be my eyes, but have not been keeping up with your duties! Well speak up my dear; tell me what is going on. Is it your mother?" Catherine teased as she stroked her friend's arm as she peered unsuccessfully across the room. Her limited eyesight only presented her with blurry shapes. She could distinguish figures, but not faces or details.

"Yes, Catherine, it is my mother. It seems that Mr. Bingley has had the audacity to ask Jane to dance. And mother is going around the room gloating about it. I dare say she is already claiming that he fancies her, knowing my mother!"

Elizabeth could not take her eyes off of Mrs. Bennet speaking animatedly to Mrs. Long who was looking a bit wearisome. Her two nieces, a Miss Summers and a Miss Long; however appeared to enjoy listening to Mrs. Bennet.

"It does sound like something your mother would do, but we do not have to speak about your mother. Be my eyes please. Tell me what else is going on in the room." She playfully slapped Lizzy on the arm.

"There is a dance going on. And I do not understand why people are dancing," she said suddenly feeling mournful as her face fell.

"No Lizzy, this will not do, you cannot be melancholy. Dr. Markham and I will not allow it. We know there is a dance, but use those powers of observation that I know you have, and tell me what people are doing? How are they interacting? What else besides dancing is going on? Is there any intrigue?" A large smile played across her face, "do any couples look in love? Has anyone snuck outside for 'fresh air' yet?"

Lizzy tore her eyes from her mother, scrunched them closed tightly, and then re-opened them again. The ballroom appeared anew to her. Instead of her mother and her machinations, it was a stage set for a play and she must describe the scenery for Miss Parks.

"There are sixteen couples dancing in the center of the room. I see Miss Goulding is dancing with John Lucas. We all grew up together and she used to hate him as he teased us and would pull our plaits. I once pushed him in the mud for it." She smiled at that memory. "We shall have to get her to come and sit and chat with us when she is free."

"Mr. Bingley is dancing with Jane, as you know. His sister, the married one, is dancing with her husband. That other young gentleman is dancing with the other sister. They look so solemn as they dance. They appear to be neither speaking to each other nor to the other couples. I fear they are not enjoying themselves. I suspect that they think they are above such company as ours, being fashionable people."

"Lady Lucas is sitting with Maria Lucas and one of Mrs. Long's nieces has joined her, though I am not sure which one it is. I often get them confused, which is odd since they are cousins and not sisters. Mrs. Brown and her elderly mother are both twitching their fingers in time to the music. I suspect that they both loved to dance when they were younger. Cameron Goulding seems to be sneaking out the side door and off on some prank. It seems awfully early in the evening to be getting up to no good." She smiled as if she was quite familiar with the types of pranks the youngest Goulding son had played in the past.

And so Elizabeth kept up a commentary on the couples on the dance floor and of the habits of the watchers on the side. Lydia drifted over, having grown tired of hearing her mother effuse about Jane and Bingley even when he had returned Miss Bennet to her mother and asked Miss Mary King for a turn on the floor.

"Lizzy, have you noticed the tall man, Mr. Darcy and Bingley's sisters?" Lydia asked, leaning across her sister so she could hiss-whisper in her good ear.

"Is that Mr. Bingley's friend, Mr. Darcy?" Catherine asked.

"Yes. The married sister is Mrs. Hurst and her husband is the short man." Lydia explained. "Well, Mr. Darcy, and the unmarried sister, Miss Bingley, have practically declined to be introduced to anybody—what do you think about that!" She smiled like she was imparting the greatest secret.

"I suspected they thought themselves above their company," Lizzy stated. "I have been watching the two of them dance. They did not once speak to the other couples and seem to rarely speak, even to each other." The two sisters glanced over at the offending couple who were across the room next to the two Brown women. Miss Bingley turned to look at old Mrs. Brown with her twitching hands and her happy smile as if she were some odd form of human she had never encountered. She said something to Mr. Darcy and they moved on.

"You see, she seems the greatest snob, don't you think?" called out Lydia with some obvious enjoyment at the spectacle of the couple who were 'above their company,' as was being said by the spectators in the room. Lizzy shushed her sister.

"What happened, what did you see?" asked Miss Parks in a whisper.

"Miss Bingley was standing in front of old Mrs. Brown, looked down at her as if she were a mongrel dog, and then she and Mr. Darcy moved on," remarked Lizzy. Somehow describing it made it feel cheap, and she felt sorry to even involve good Mrs. Brown in any form of gossip. She looked down at Miss Parks' arm entwined with her own feeling ashamed.

"Look at them now, Sir William has tackled them. Knowing him he is going to want to introduce them to everybody," squealed Lydia with more excitement.

"Shush Lydia." Lizzy could not help calling out more loudly than she intended.

"Mr. Darcy has snubbed him!" Lydia called out. "He simply turned around and walked off! Miss Bingley is being led out to the floor by Mr. James Goulding. I guess she couldn't refuse his hand."

Lizzy watched as Mr. Darcy walked over to where Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were engaged with the Watson family. "Apparently he asked Mrs. Hurst to dance as they coming out onto the floor now too." She added for Miss Parks' benefit.

They watched the couples dance and Elizabeth kept up a commentary. Lydia lamented that she was not allowed to dance yet as she watched Kitty dance with an awkward Philip Lucas who probably, at sixteen, would rather have been outside with Cameron Goulding than being a younger statesman at his father's insistence. When the dance ended, Kitty came to collect Lydia and they ran off to find refreshments.

The next set of dances caused a stir in the assembly room as Mr. Bingley asked Jane to dance again. Mrs. Bennet had to make an entire circuit of the room to ensure that every matron knew of her good fortune. Mrs. Bennet's sister, Mrs. Philips, shared in that fortune, but the other families of Meryton began to feel that, perhaps, the Bennet family had too much attention from the guest of honor, especially since the other guests were not socializing as much as was expected.

Mr. Bingley, during a brief interval, came from the dance in an attempt to encourage his friend to join it.

"Come Darcy," he said, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. You know I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insufferable. There is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with," protested his friend.

"I would not be so scornful!" Cried Bingley. "Upon my honor, I have never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening, and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty."

"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, looking at Jane who was waiting in the set for Bingley to return.

"Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But Miss Bennet pointed out one of her sisters, who is sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you," he indicated Elizabeth on the right of Miss Parks with a slight tilt of his head.

"Which do you mean?" he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, and then at Miss Parks—who while she could not catch Mr. Darcy's eyes directly, could at least stare in his direction enough to make him turn his gaze from her and Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked from one gentleman to the other, but in obvious frustration at not being able to follow what the conversation was about.

"She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt _me_, and I am no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had best return to your pretty partner, for you are wasting your time with me," sneered Darcy and walked off.

Catherine Parks sat in silence after this communication between the two gentlemen. While she was sure that Elizabeth would normally find such a story a delightfully ridiculous one to add to her collection of human eccentricities and quirks; Catherine worried that since Lizzy was the topic of the exchange, she might not find Mr. Darcy's slight at her expense as amusing. It had been obvious that Elizabeth did not hear the communication since she did not react with her usual wit to the men's exchange but had just watched the two talk animatedly almost as if she were a sports match.

Amy Goulding startled the both of them, Catherine from her wondering over Lizzy, and Lizzy from her watching her sister and Mr. Bingley dancing with a wrinkled brow. Miss Goulding joined them in their small corner of the assembly room, and the three short-haired women caught up on recent events. Their hair was long enough now to at least pull back and trim with ribbon, and they giggled more than was normally in their nature, about the extra time they had spent on their hair that evening trying to tame it.

When the dance ended, Jane brought Mr. Bingley over to introduce him to Elizabeth and Miss Parks. He declared how delighted he was to meet them both.

"May I solicit the honor of a dance, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked with great courtesy.

"I am sorry, Sir, but I am afraid I am in mourning, and I do not dance," she answered looking intently at him as if daring him to refute her right to be in mourning when Jane was not. Mr. Bingley looked startled at this statement and looked over at Miss Bennet, seated now by her sister, who smiled.

"Well Miss Parks, then, may I have the honor of your hand for the next set of dances?" he asked, holding out his gloved hand with a little bow.

"I am afraid, Sir, I do not dance," she looked up at him with a blank face and offered no other explanation. She did not feel she wanted to explain about her eyes to a new acquaintance.

"Oh," he could not help saying as he dropped his hand. He turned to Miss Goulding, with whom he had already had one dance. "Miss Goulding, are you free for another dance?"

"Thank you Sir, but I do not care to dance again," she squeezed Miss Parks' hand from her place by her side as she smiled up at his now pained face. Jane Bennet felt truly sorry for him. He looked down the row of four women in bewilderment as if he had never encountered such a thing as three rejections in such a short space of time. Luckily he ended his glance with Miss Bennet whose eyes shone with sympathy and even admiration, or as much admiration as can be felt from conversation on a dance floor during two dance sets.

He seemed on the verge of scandalizing the neighborhood and asking Miss Jane Bennet for a third set of dances when Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley came up beside him.

"Our carriage is here," remarked Mr. Darcy dryly.

"But the ball is not over!" Protested Mr. Bingley, turning, and then glancing back at Miss Bennet. "There are still two sets left!"

"Well apparently there was some mix-up with the carriages, and ours got called early; we may as well go," and Darcy turned to leave without acknowledging the women.

"Caroline, you must meet Miss Bennet, her sister and her friends," insisted Mr. Bingley, clasping his sister's arm and bringing her to face the row of women. Miss Bingley looked a little put out but stayed to meet the Meryton women. Introductions were made all around and she was, perhaps, a little surprised to have hit on the four most intelligent women in the room in one place. To find pleasing manners and intelligent conversation in a country assembly room was certainly a surprise to her and made her think that perhaps this venture of her brothers to the countryside may not be too tedious.

Mr. Darcy was waiting at the door with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, so they eventually made their way to the door, saying their goodbyes along the way, and left the assembly hall.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mrs. Bennet could not wait to acquaint her husband with their good fortune and returned that evening in animated spirits to Longbourn to relate the news of the evening. Mr. Bennet was still up in his study, apparently at work with some paperwork. He had a good deal of curiosity about the event of the evening and whether Mr. Bingley had met everyone's expectations, especially his wife's.

"Oh,my dear Mr. Bennet," as she entered the room, "we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. Jane was so admired. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice. Only thing of _that_, my dear: he actually danced with her twice; and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time! I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's gown—"

Here she was interrupted by Mr. Bennet who protested against any description of finery. She was obligated to seek another subject and mentioned Mr. Darcy. While he may be so tall and handsome, he had not deigned to dance with any of the Bennet daughters and this had not stood well with Mrs. Bennet. How he had walked back and forth across the assembly hall only speaking to his own party and refusing to be introduced to anyone else of the company. His manners had given a disgust which had turned the tide of his initial popularity; for he had been discovered to be proud, to be above his company, above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend. Mrs. Bennet was passionate in her dislike of the one as she was in her pleasure at the other.

The Bennet daughters and their friend crowded in Elizabeth and Catherine's room in their nightgowns, pin curls and caps. Lydia immediately pounced on Jane about Mr. Bingley.

"Oh Jane, you were quite the belle of the ball, think of it, Mr. Bingley asked you to dance twice!" she held her hand up to her forehead and pretended to swoon back on the crowded bed. All but Jane giggled.

"He is quite an agreeable young man, sensible, good-humored and lively. And with such happy manners!" Jane exclaimed. "I quite admire him." She was sitting at Elizabeth and Catherine's feet, between them and the younger Bennet sisters.

"This is not quite like you Jane. You are normally more guarded about your views or feelings of others," said Elizabeth reaching out to place a hand on her sister's shoulder. "At least not in sharing them so openly."

"I think perhaps that," Jane paused in an attempt to figure how to express her thoughts without bringing up past sorrows, "in the past year I have learned to be less cautious."

"He is also very handsome," offered Kitty, "which must certainly help. I am sure he would not be quite so agreeable if he were not quite so handsome," her eyes twinkled at Jane.

"I was flattered by his asking me to dance a second time," Jane said from beneath her nightcap.

"What could be more natural than his asking you a second time," said Catherine, "I am sure he could not help but see you were the prettiest woman in the room."

"Only because Miss Parks was hidden away," said Kitty, "I still think you might be able to dance Catherine."

"I think my dancing days are over unless there is a dance where my partner holds onto me the whole time, and can guide me around the floor," offered Catherine, a wicked smile on her face. The Bennet daughters all gasped in shock at the idea of a dance that involved more than the touching of gloved hands.

"And I don't think we need to argue about who is prettier than whom. I am sure that it is wearing enough when Mamma speaks of it." Jane proclaimed. And they all agreed to not bring it up again.

"I am sure my dancing days are over as well. I still cannot fathom that Meryton society is ready to return to its routine of balls and assemblies," said a piqued Elizabeth.

"Lord Lizzy, you are so somber!" called out Lydia and she gave Kitty a large hug as she rolled her head over to the side. Jane shushed her.

"Lizzy, we all miss Mary, and Charlotte Lucas," Jane said quietly. "But it has been thirteen months since scarlet fever has disrupted all of our lives. Don't you think," she paused, hooking her knees up under her, and then looking at her younger sister who was leaning back against the pillows, "don't you think it is time to move on?" She continued. "I think you need to find some new interest to pour your passion into Lizzy; you are an accomplished, passionate woman, and you need something new to focus on."

"I agree. We must keep moving on." Catherine leaned her head against Elizabeth's shoulder. "So what about Mr. Bingley's sisters and his guest?" It was a leading question. She wondered who else might have over-heard Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy's exchange about Elizabeth's unsuitability as a dance partner.

"Their dresses are so fine!" offered Lydia.

"That is not quite what she meant," said Kitty in a bossy tone from the end of the bed, "that friend of Mr. Bingley never seemed to do much but walk back and forth. He is so tall; it was hard to miss him. He may be handsome, but that cold, proud look on his face does not make him nearly as agreeable as your Mr. Bingley Jane."

"He is not _my_ Mr. Bingley Kitty!" said Jane blushing and looking at her lap.

"Though I wonder why he even came?" asked Elizabeth. "Mr. Darcy did not seem to enjoy himself, and he ordered his carriage early as he probably could not stand to stay any longer. Catherine, was that what Mr. Bingley came to talk to Darcy about? That Darcy wanted to leave early and Bingley was trying to dissuade him from going? Or were they talking of Jane?" She glanced at Jane with a smile.

Catherine felt the need to mince words, and only replied that the two gentlemen were just out of ear shot and that she could not quite catch what they said.

"Mrs. Hurst was pleasant enough," Kitty said. "She came around and was introduced by Sir William along with her husband."

"How are her manners?" asked Elizabeth. "She never made it over to our side of the room; we never met her or her husband. We only met Miss Bingley just as she was about to leave."

"Her manners are, perhaps, not equal to his," said Kitty being the egalitarian.

"Perhaps not at first, but she and her sister was very pleasing once you began to converse with them." Jane was always apt to like everyone. Elizabeth pointed this out.

"You tend to like all people in general Jane. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes."

"I would not wish to be too hasty in censuring any one. Besides, I have learned not to take people in my life for granted Elizabeth, even if they _may_ have faults, it is, perhaps best to forgive and forget them. Anyways, life is too precious not to see only the agreeable in people."

And with that speech, and the lateness of the hour, the family retired for the night.

The Netherfield party was still up, and the manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had most kind and attentive to him (though he did wonder at _three_ rejections in a row); there had been no formalities, no stiffness. He had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful.

Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest; and from none he received pleasure. Between Bingley and Darcy there was a very steady friendship in spite of an opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness and openness of his temper and manners, even if they were in contrast to Darcy's own. On the strength of Darcy's favor, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved and demanding; and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect, Bingley had the advantage—he was sure of being liked wherever he went—Darcy was continually giving offense.

Mrs. Hurst and her sister still thought little of their brother's venture to the country. While they were anxious for him to have an estate of his own, and were not unwilling to preside at his table though only a tenant now, they were doubtful that the neighborhood could afford them the society that they thought they deserved. Their fortunes of twenty thousand pounds had led them to associate with people of rank, to think meanly of others, to give themselves airs and, in short, to be proud and conceited. Their current circumstances weighed more in their minds than the fact that their fortune had been acquired by trade.

Miss Bingley had been surprised by her conversation with the elder Bennet sisters, Miss Parks and Miss Goulding, so she at least, thought they would be worth being acquainted with and had some little hope for the society in Meryton.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Lucases invited the women of Longbourn for tea the next day. It was a noisy affair as a number of other young ladies were there as well. It had become a ritual for Lady Lucas to have a tea so that there was a chance to gossip about the first Meryton Assembly.

Lady Lucas, like her daughter, was not too clever. She and Mrs. Bennet found each other to be of great benefit to each other, so long as their daughters were not in competition over the attentions of some young man. The Lucas' fortune was not great, and Sir William had only recently retired from trade. There were two other daughters besides Maria to provide with dowries, so it was generally regarded as doubtful that they would make great marriages. There were also several other sons besides John to consider as far as helping to launch in the world.

The afternoon began with the requisite discussion of which lady had danced with which gentleman. The fact that Jane had danced twice with Mr. Bingley was the principal discussion after everyone had settled with a tea cup in her hand and some delicacy or other as could be offered by the Lucas establishment.

The two matrons sat in chairs right next to each other, while the younger ladies disposed themselves about the room in smaller groups, occasionally joining in the conversation.

"You began the evening very well Maria," said Mrs. Bennet though with a smug smile on her face, "you were Mr. Bingley's first choice."

"Oh he is such a handsome man!" Maria Lucas proclaimed. "And he was quite a good dancer, and really a tall man, if you don't compare him to that tall, proud friend of his." She probably would have talked on of her own happiness, but Mrs. Bennet wanted to discuss her own.

"Well, then let's see, Jane was his second partner," Mrs. Bennet interrupted. She had yet to take a sip of her tea.

"And then he asked Miss King and then Miss Goulding," offered Elizabeth trying to keep her mother from talking too much about Jane. It was not to be.

"Oh, but he _did_ ask Jane to dance a second time you know; he must have admired her. And there was that little bit that Mr. Robinson overheard?" She eagerly waited for someone else to tell the story—her eyes scanning over the young ladies on the sofa and by the window.

Amy Goulding indulged her. "Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson. About Mr. Robinson's asking Mr. Bingley how he liked our assembly and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought the prettiest? and his answering, Oh, the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point." Miss Goulding knew from long experience that no other subject would suit Mrs. Bennet until she felt she had exhausted the one at hand.

"And the ladies, what gorgeous gowns they wore!" There was some minute discussion of current fashions based on the cut of Miss Bingley's and Mrs. Hurst's gowns. As to their manners, not much was discussed.

"Oh but what of that friend of his though, I cannot understand how Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy get along at all, they are so very different," Mrs. Bennet picked up the conversation again.

"To be sure, he was so solemn, so proud!" added Lady Lucas.

"He is so tall, one cannot help but watch him walk about the room," repeated Kitty from her thoughts of the night before.

"He never did speak to anybody apparently," added Elizabeth, "so why did he bother to come?"

"Mr. Bingley said he is awkward around new people," soothed Jane. "Mr. Bingley was a little put out, to be sure, and had left the dance with me to try to get him to join, but when he returned, he explained that it is often Mr. Darcy's way, to be awkward around new acquaintance. He is apparently more agreeable amongst his regular acquaintance."

"And to be sure, a ball room is not the place to meet people," Elizabeth smirked and went to fetch herself another cup of tea.

"I am not so sure of that," Miss Goulding interrupted, "sometimes the crush of people can be something awful."

"But I did see him speak to Mrs. Long," twittered Lady Lucas as if she just remembered.

"I am sure it is nothing of consequence Ma'm, he was probably only passing her by," dismissed Elizabeth. She had no faith in Lady Lucas' recollections of events.

"But what of the other new families that attended Mamma? Did you meet many of them?" Jane attempted to steer the conversation away from Mr. Bingley and his guests.

"Well let me see now," began Mrs. Bennet.

"There are the Aylesburys," said Lady Lucas. "They let Milverton Manor in the late spring. Their son is away at University, but their daughters are both out and attended the assembly. Too bad their son could not have come to attend the dance." The lack of eligible young men at a dance was always a sticking point.

"What kind of name is Aylesbury?" Mrs. Bennet pulled a face.

"It is probably of some long English history, who knows?" dismissed Lady Lucas who had no interest in the origin of family names.

"And the Wildings just let Cheddon Hall. I believe the oldest, Claire, came last night, and I did dance with Mr. Alexander Wilding," offered Amy Goulding shyly.

Mr. Wilding then had to be discussed. He was almost of age, had finished university and was the only son. He was not handsome, but Miss Goulding said he had very pleasing manners, appeared to be well-read and that he was an excellent dancer.

"Did anyone meet Mr. Brunton's border Mr. Cauldwell?" asked Lady Lucas. "He has only recently moved into the neighborhood. He is apparently to be a man of the cloth, and was just recently ordained."

"He was rather odd," offered Penelope Harrington suddenly calling out from her place by the window, with her sister and Lydia, "for why did he come to a ball if he did not choose to dance?"

"I was not introduced," huffed Mrs. Bennet pursing her lips, "I thought I had met all the new visitors last night. You say he is a clergyman Lady Lucas?" She faced her neighbor squarely.

"Yes indeed Mrs. Bennet. He does not yet have a living, and is looking for a patron. I believe he has no family. It seems odd that he would choose to live here since the Rev. Vickers is of such a healthy disposition and not likely to be leaving us anytime soon. How did he find out about Mr. Brunton wishing to let part of his cottage?" This was perhaps the most complex piece of reasoning or speculation that Lady Lucas had ever put together.

Mr. Cauldwell proved to be a mystery as apparently only the Lucas family had met him. This was probably due to Sir William's business of being unofficial town spokesman. As assembly balls were public events, they could be attended by anyone who could afford the fee, though local families still usually knew who was coming. Mr. Brunton had not attended one in years, however, and it was odd that Mr. Cauldwell had attended a ball, but had not chosen to dance. It was put down to his vocation.

The younger ladies, who were gathered by the window, did not find Mr. Cauldwell such an interesting subject. Whyever a clergyman would come to live in Meryton or even nearby Stevenage was of no importance. Their interest was more in the matter of the militia. The Monmouthshire militia had been stationed in the area and many a handsome man in a red coat now graced the streets of their town.

Lydia and the two Harrington sisters were particularly taken with comparing notes on the officer's names and ranks. And here at least had been some satisfaction for all, for here were men who came to a ball to dance. So both the unmarried Colonel and his Captains and Lieutenants had, at least, had the universal flair of pleasing both the ladies and the matrons, even if they were not as rich as Bingley or Darcy. According to the younger girls, many were just as handsome if not more so.

The carriage came to collect them and take them home when the delicacies ran out. Mr. Bennet met his family in the hall.

"Come into the study Elizabeth, I have something I wish to discuss," he asked after barely giving time to greet his family.

Lately, he had spent more time in his study than in his library.

"First of all, I have this pamphlet that might interest you." He held out a stiff pamphlet to Elizabeth who took it and examined its cover.

" 'Methodical Signs'?" she read, looking up at her father.

"I hope you will overlook the fact that is by a Frenchman, given these difficult times, but it is an interesting read." He gestured for her to continue.

" 'Old signed French, or the instructional method of signs' ," she continued. Her face was a mixture of surprise, uncertainty and even a little fear.

"It is a method of communicating by making signs with your hands, it was developed by a French Abbot some fifty years ago. I hear there is some Englishman and his family who have taken up his methods and are teaching the deaf to communicate: giving them a chance at some schooling for the first time."

"But I can still hear Papa," Lizzy was not quite sure what to think.

"I know my dear. Well do I value being able to have your sharp mind to turn to when the others in this family present me with only silliness, but I think you may find it of value, even if it is not of immediate value. If you wish, put it away for now," and he dismissed it as if it were a trifle he did not really care about.

"Now, on to other matters." And he settled into his chair behind his desk and gestured for her to sit in her usual spot, not across from him, but at the side.

"I am going to try to break the entail."

Lizzy could only look at him in astonishment. Mrs. Bennet had tried for years to convince him to attempt it, but Elizabeth and Jane had argued with her at length that it was legally not possible; that with Grandpa Bennet amending the entail as he did, it was enough to make the courts side with the designated heir.

"I had not expected you to be speechless." Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair.

"You had convinced Jane and I years ago that it was impossible to break the entail. That when Great-Grandpa Bennet decided his daughter Prudence was nothing like her name and he needed to ensure that no daughters could inherit, he created the entail to state 'male heirs of my body,' and he got your grandfather to agree."

"Yes I am sorry that both men were so pig-headed. Our family has been here for over two centuries Elizabeth, as well you know. I fear that there has always been a son to inherit. The family has perhaps worried that there might not be _any_ child to inherit as you also know."

Elizabeth smiled as memories of childhood family stories took hold. "But there was always a son, once in a while an extra child, but always a son. Then Great-Grandpa Bennet decided that his daughter Prudence was too bird-brained for his liking and decided to cut her off from inheriting."

"Only because she preferred watching birds, which I think is not such a terrible interest on the whole, she could prefer gossiping about the neighbors or collecting fine lace," he was chuckling.

"But it is her son who will inherit Longbourn now, which is the ironic part," sighed Elizabeth.

"No my dear, the ironic part is that I had _five_ children—and all of them daughters!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of social events for all of Meryton. The past thirteen months of grief seemed to melt away. And those long memories that seemed so sharp and in the front of everyone's mind were forgotten in light of excellent weather which helped to promote everyone's spirits.

The Netherfield party was much sought after and the well-established Meryton families had to carefully craft their social plans least they be in contention with each other for Bingley's attention. All of the ladies in town continued to sing the praises of the blithe Mr. Bingley, and while Mr. Darcy finally made the formal acquaintance of the families in town, his manners towards them softened slowly. None of the young ladies set their caps at him. A rich handsome man was quite intriguing, but if he never spoke to them, well, then best move on to men who did.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst still found little to like after a fortnight in Hertfordshire, but did find the society of the elder Miss Bennets, Miss Parks and Miss Goulding to be acceptable. So any invitation that was accepted by, or given by, one of these four women was likely also attended by one or both of the Netherfield women. This made the Meryton women much in demand at social events.

Miss Bingley found Miss Elizabeth Bennet quite interesting. It might have been that she was well-informed on a number of subjects or that she was not one, like so many others, to throw herself in the path of any eligible young man, but it might have been that Elizabeth Bennet seemed quite intrigued with Miss Bingley's conversational skills. For Elizabeth, she found it quite easy to place the lady on her right-hand side, catch only one word in three, and for that to be enough to appear to hold up Elizabeth's end of a conversation with the young woman. She could not truly like Miss Bingley with her affectations and sense of superiority, but found no reason to truly dislike her or Mrs. Hurst.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst declared Miss Jane Bennet to have the 'sweetest temper.' Miss Amy Goulding was considered the 'best breed,' though in reality Miss Bingley and her sister thought this since she had the largest dowry amongst the women and they valued money so highly. She was worth at least four thousand pounds, possibly more if her mother's marriage settlement was truly only earmarked for daughters and not sons—and she was the only daughter. Miss Parks was 'well read,' as they could not think of some polite way of saying she was poor. Miss Parks was also a little aloof as if she did not live in the world in which she slept, ate and visited in. As if she was a fairy visitor from another realm. The Netherfield ladies were not quite sure what to make of her.

Mr. Bingley declared that he liked country manners and attended as many functions as he could without Darcy complaining at the boredom of it all. At his next encounter with Miss Parks, his heart was quite overcome by her striking beauty and he spent half an evening talking to her, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was never parted from her. Miss Goulding came to sit with them, and it made him feel a bit intimidated, and he excused himself and found Miss Jane Bennet who had just refreshed her cup of tea. With Jane Bennet he found a pleasing temper, easy manners and a familiar conversationalist. His fleeting interest in Miss Parks was just that, fleeting and ended the day it began. Mr. Darcy spent his time talking to Mr. Hurst, or Meryton gentlemen. He avoided the ladies.

With the wonderful autumn weather, many social events were planned outdoors. The Watsons held what they called a "lawn party" one sunny day. This included a nice dinner and some fun little games like _Pall Mall. _The Netherfield party, of course, had been invited, along with a disproportionate amount of families with single young man, because Miss Watson was now approaching one and twenty. The Bennet daughters and Miss Parks had a delightful afternoon. Jane enjoyed attentions from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst as well as their brother.

Jane was beginning to blossom under the attentions of Mr. Bingley. His easy nature, positive outlook and warm heart was, in temperament, so close to her own. She had enjoyed his attentions at the Meryton assembly, and every new encounter with him added to her growing affection. In the past her disposition had been one of restraint, but Jane now found herself less guarded. It was hard to always closet her emotions and put a mask on her face as she had felt the need to do previously, and Mr. Bingley seemed to always be making her eyes smile and saying something that brought a laugh from her lips. She began to entertain the idea of happiness, and whether such a man as Mr. Bingley could bring her that happiness, and was this love?

Mrs. Bennet hosted one of her finest dinners which quite over-shadowed the spread that was given by the Harringtons the next day. Miss Bingley had yet to arrange a formal dinner, but did invite her more intimate, or rather, more tolerated acquaintances to tea more than once.

Elizabeth felt herself being drawn more and more back into society as their mother loudly exclaimed over the post each morning. She was still loathe to admit to Jane or Catherine that she was, perhaps, moving on, as had been suggested.

With the return of their spirits and the excellent weather, they found themselves outdoors more often than not. Catherine did not wish to give up exercise, despite her limited vision, so with a firm grip on Lizzy's arm, and a well-placed hat on her head to shade her eyes from the sun, they took almost daily walks. The Longbourn estate had beautiful walkways, and they, at first, admired the beautiful signs of the season there, but as their stamina increased, their forays into the wilds of Hertfordshire become more extensive. They could walk to town and visit Aunt Philips or the shops. Or they could keep going through town and continue on the road that went towards Netherfield. There was a small wood, The Old Park Woods, between the town and Netherfield Hall that tempted the two women.

The woods provided cool shade in the heat of the day, and some comfort from the glare of the sun that did hurt Miss Parks' eyes. Their pace slowed considerably as Elizabeth was ever vigilant with her duties as Catherine's attendant in leading her around. They found a small downed tree that proved a capable place to rest. The small twitterings and rustlings of the woods were very calming and both women felt no need to talk. Elizabeth found some peace in observing a world where she did not feel left out because she was not keeping up with the conversations. Catherine felt oddly at home as her hearing, as often does, had sharpened in the past ten months, and she felt like she could listen to every little leaf twitch on the end of a branch, the tiniest cheep of a wren, the footfalls of a squirrel or the snap of a twig. She sat up straighter and looked in vain, with her foggy eyes, for the source of the twig snap. Lizzie had her eyes closed, with her hands on either side of her, holding onto the log as if she were pursuing some beautiful daydream.

A fuzzy figure appeared in front of them, and Catherine nudged Elizabeth who, startled, looked up at Mr. Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy!" exclaimed Elizabeth as she stood up to curtsy, hauling Catherine with her in too much haste. Miss Parks lost her balance, fell, and Elizabeth did not catch her, but Mr. Darcy darted forward and caught Miss Parks and set her on her feet again. Catherine's bonnet had fallen over her eyes a bit and she still felt unsteady after her quick journey up and down and up. Catherine fussed with the ties as she righted the bonnet on her head, still wobbly on her feet.

"Catherine, you must sit down," and despite not having formally said their hellos to Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth pushed Catherine back to their fallen log and gently seated her. Darcy watched quietly, wondering at Miss Bennet's attentions with her friend. Elizabeth got the bonnet tied on, then held her friend's chin to look into her eyes. "I am sorry I pulled you up so fast, please forgive me?" Her hand fell away.

"There is nothing to forgive Lizzy; you were startled. I should have warned you I heard something." She paused, "We are such an awkward pair, you and I," and then she laughed. And Elizabeth joined her, and Mr. Darcy was forgotten entirely until he coughed.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Parks, may I hope you enjoy the rest of this lovely afternoon." He tipped his hat. Elizabeth stood and gave him a proper curtsy, but Miss Parks remained on her log. They nodded their goodbyes and he continued on his way. They watched him until the dappled sun camouflaged his green coat.

"That was most interesting!" Declared Elizabeth, "That has to be the longest sentence he has ever spoken to either of us."

"To be fair Elizabeth, he is a new acquaintance; he has not spoken much to anyone in Meryton!" And they laughed again.

"I am sorry again that I was so rough," Lizzy apologized again.

"I am beginning to think that I may need a walking stick, though your arm is plenty strong," she reassured her friend whose brow was instantly furrowed, "but in instances like this, I find my eyes are my disadvantage and seem to make me more unsteady on my feet than I had been. I do find I lose my balance more often. It may just be because of the light."

"You have mentioned that the light hurts your eyes, and that is why you have such a broad-brimmed hat." Elizabeth sat down next to Miss Parks and took her gloved hand in her own.

"I have also wondered about getting tinted eyeglasses as well." Catherine looked over at her friend and could tell by Elizabeth's body that she was startled.

"Up until now you have been able to hide your affliction, but that seems like it would advertise it!" Elizabeth's voice could not hide her shock.

"I am not afraid of appearing as who I am, Lizzy." It was a bold statement.

Elizabeth did not quite know how to answer her. If she admitted to herself, she would say she wanted Miss Parks to hide her affliction as Elizabeth wanted to still be able to hide her own, but she could not say so, so she felt churlish.

"Let us head for home." They made their way, slowly, to Longbourn.

At home, Miss Parks lay down to rest, but Elizabeth went to practice on the pianoforte. She found that there was a release in playing. She had always enjoyed playing before she had contracted scarlet fever, and had shared that passion with Mary—the only other sister who played—but there was something else now. Perhaps it was to play and to always remember Mary whenever her hands touched the keys. Perhaps it was a release from the frustration of feeling left out of conversations she could no longer hear. She knew people were talking and she had so delighted in listening to people. In discourses of intelligent, well-informed people, and to join in those conversations; and in discourses of the banal and trivial, even absurd kind that had delighted her father. Perhaps it was just that she could hear the music and the vibrations from the piano and they held more delight for her now, as her close call with death and her months at Priestwood Green had taught her to appreciate the finer things, like music, sisters, family and good friends.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Uncle Philips was a capable fellow. He visited all of the officers so he opened up a source of felicity to his nieces, and to anyone who might pop by in the afternoon. As he and his wife had not been blessed with children, and lived in town rather than on an estate, their well-appointed house was the center of many social events, both planned and impromptu. Lydia was especially taken with all the young men in red coats, and, weary of her mother's talk of Mr. Bingley's fortune, often walked to her Uncle and Aunt's house where a tea was never a lonely event.

Aunt Philips had a nice noisy evening planned for them. Her social events were always enjoyable evenings. Mrs. Philips hinted that there was to be a special guest and Mrs. Bennet reasoned that Mr. Bingley must be that guest, though neither Jane nor Elizabeth had heard that any of the Netherfield party were to attend.

The guest, however, was Mr. Brunton and his border, Mr. Cauldwell, which sincerely deflated Mrs. Bennet's spirits when she was introduced. She kept a civil tongue and all her family were introduced to the older neighbor and the tall, heavy-set man in black.

Mr. Brunton was well-known to everyone. He had been a clerk in her father's office, just like Mr. Philips, and of almost equal status, but he had not had the good fortune to marry Mr. Gardiner's daughter. And when Mrs. Philips and Mrs. Bennet's father had passed away, Mr. Philips had assumed the business. This had made Mr. Brunton resentful, but he had born with it.

Their lives had been quite in parallel: clerks first, then marriage, then both independent men of business—of the law—as Mr. Brunton had set out on his own when Mr. Philips had become the senior partner. Neither had children. Their houses were on the same street. When Mrs. Brunton had taken ill and passed away a few years ago, he became bitter, however, and he broke off friendly relations with the Philips, as if somehow her passing had been Philips' fault by inheriting the business in the first place. So it was quite a topic of conversation to the Bennet family, for Mr. Bennet had accompanied his family for once, to see that the breech had been mended.

Mr. Brunton introduced his boarderer, 'and friend' to the Bennet family. Mr. Brunton's manners were stiff as if he was not used to being around people. His isolation, though only a few hundred yards away in distance, had been one of many years and had had quite an effect on his deportment.

Mr. Cauldwell was a grave, stately man, which seemed to befit a man of the cloth. His manners were formal, and he methodically greeted each Bennet member in turn. After this was done, however, he became more animated and gallant, and assured Mrs. Bennet that she had jewels for daughters and wondered that they were not already married.

He attached himself to Mr. Bennet, to Mr. Bennet's annoyance. The evening was principally devoted to card-playing, and Mr. Bennet had not wished to play, but after taking a few turns about the room and greeting various neighbors, but not being able to shake Mr. Cauldwell's presence—and the young man seemed to have a continuous line of conversation, comments about the room, the number of people, their attire, questions on their wealth and character—that Mr. Bennet sat down unexpectedly as the fourth at a card table.

Elizabeth and Miss Parks had been uncertain about choosing a game to play, that Catherine's eyes made card playing difficult, when Mr. Denny and Mr. Matthews, militia officers, bowed boldly to them and introduced another young gentleman. Mr. Worthing was a tall, gentleman-like man who had recently joined the militia after leaving the regulars. He was the handsomest of the trio, and the quintet sat down on some of Mrs. Philips best seating.

"Did you see much action Mr. Worthing?" Questioned Catherine immediately.

His face was transformed with a wide smile that heightened his fine visage. "That is always the first question that I am asked. Not if I enjoy reading Blake, or do I enjoy the paintings of Gainsborough, but 'have I seem much action?' Are we not in a time of peace and not of war?" And he smiled again leaning towards her.

Elizabeth felt that his smile was, perhaps, a bit dangerous. She had had to lean forward a bit more than she wished to hear him which may have given the gentleman wrong ideas. Perhaps Mr. Denny and Mr. Matthews felt that Mr. Worthing was getting too much attention from the ladies.

"We hope that the peace will last a long time," Mr. Matthew interjected.

"But we must be prepared for all eventualities; Napoleon is not to be trusted. This is why the militia is being strengthened and why there is a new encampment of the regulars near Stevenage. We need to ensure that England is safe." Mr. Denny rattled out.

"With such gentlemen in red coats I am sure we have nothing to fear," Catherine voiced an opinion that was welcome by all three men.

"I had not heard about a camp of regulars moving so close to us," cried Elizabeth. "Is this recent news?"

"Very recent, I just received word today; though I am sure the War Office has had it planned for months now. The Colonel of the regiment is still in London and will not be down until November, but his Captains are to arrive in the next week." Mr. Denny was quite animated about the prospect of a fellow regiment in the area.

Mr. Worthing sat up suddenly at this news. Catherine could not see the exact expression on his face, but could hear the small hiss of breath.

"You are right Mr. Worthing; we should talk of poetry, and not of the possibilities of war." She smiled her most dazzling smile which seemed to unnerve all three men. They began to talk of poetry: Wordsworth, Coleridge and Burns.

Mr. Cauldwell had attempted to play whist, but played poorly and his table broke up. He wandered about the room watching the games, keeping up a perpetual commentary, and sometimes ruining a hand as he revealed a player's cards. He did not catch the glares that were thrown at him.

Mr. Brunton had explained, which Mr. Cauldwell confirmed in person, and at length, that he had been ordained the previous April. He had failed to obtain any living. None of the men he had been recommended to had, so far, offered him any sort of a living. Meryton folks began to understand why no patron would want to grant a living to such an absurd man. To entrust twenty-five or thirty years of sermon-making, marrying and burying his local families to such a man as Mr. Cauldwell would seem like a senseless idea to a prudent man. No one in town wondered why no gentleman would take such a man under his wing. He might find some work as a curate, if he was lucky.

He came to hover near the quintet of three red coats and two gowns. Apparently it was not in his nature to only listen, so when one of the participants mentioned Thomas Gray, he felt, as a clergyman, to interrupt.

"You are not discussing poetry!" He declared, leaning forward over Mr. Matthew's shoulder.

Elizabeth did not catch all of Mr. Cauldwell's words, but could definitely tell from his face and posture how he felt about poetry.

"Mr. Cauldwell, whatever can you object to about poetry?" She challenged.

"Poetry is not a fit subject for ladies; you had much better stick with prose. Poetry inflames the passions too much," he pronounced rising up on his toe tips.

"Mr. Cauldwell, are not verses from the Bible just that, _verse_, as in poetry?" she arched her eyebrows as she faced off with him.

"I am shocked, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, shocked that you would adopt such an attitude, that is not an appropriate one for a young lady!" He landed loudly on his feet, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.

"Mr. Cauldwell, I must ask you to calm down Sir," insisted Mr. Denny, rising from his chair to face the clergyman.

"I think you need to take some daily instruction from Fordyce's Sermons; I will make sure to send you a copy!" And he spun on the spot and trotted off to warm his hands at the fire with his back to them. It did not seem to occur to him the impropriety of an heretofore unknown young man corresponding with, let alone sending a gift to, a young lady.

"Well what do you think about that." Miss Parks looked over at Elizabeth. They clasped hands as they tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the young man.

Most of the card tables broke up soon afterwards, and they all headed in for a hot supper.

* * *

News of additional red coats thrilled Mrs. Bennet and Lydia. Mrs. Bennet thought that a visit to Stevenage was called for, but Mr. Bennet pointed out that they had not yet arrived. But Mrs. Bennet felt that it was really a necessary trip. As if by seeing the town before the camp was set up would give her an advantage in finding an officer to marry one of her daughters.

Mrs. Bennet arranged for the carriage to take them to Stevenage. Jane had been invited to tea at Netherfield at the last minute, and was going to be picked up by Miss Goulding in the Goulding carriage, but Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, Kitty, Lydia and Catherine Parks all drove to Stevenage to shop and to visit.

Stevenage was larger than Meryton. There were more shops available, and the ladies found the ribbon selection excellent, and more varied than the same often-visited shop in Meryton. Lydia and Kitty insisted on visiting a milliner's. Elizabeth visited a shop where she found some beautiful fabric for a new gown. The beautiful print muslin with dark flowers was a change from previous choices where she often went with a solid color. Lizzie pointed out a fetching green that would look ravishing on Catherine. Catherine admired it, but passed over it.

Miss Parks' father, when he had re-trenched, had made her an allowance, but Catherine was ever mindful of how much her keep cost the Bennets. Mr. Bennet had been kind when Miss Parks had offered to pay for her keep, and had insisted that she not have to pay, but was to consider herself a guest and not worry about the expense. Still, she did worry about the impropriety of spending too much on frivolities, like new gowns. Catherine also did not know how long her father would remain in these dire financial circumstances, or if he would ever recover.

They came out of the shop to a busy street. The day had been partly cloudy and was their first cold autumn day, so they made sure to wrap their shawls across their shoulders. Elizabeth and Catherine were to meet Mrs. Bennet and the other girls for luncheon. There was an inn, the Langthorne Inn, where they were to meet. They strolled slowly down the high street, admiring shop windows.

Catherine pulled up as she spied a collection of walking sticks on display.

"Elizabeth, do we have time to go in?"

"How can you tell what is on display?" teased Elizabeth.

"My eyesight isn't that bad. I can tell what they are because of the contrast, it isn't hard, a long dark object against an ivory background like that; besides, you said you would help me look for one," countered Catherine.

"I don't recall that we explicitly discussed it," her lips set together, but she opened the shop door. Elizabeth still had misgivings about Catherine having a walking stick, but as fashionable ladies sometimes used one, she figured it could, perhaps, not signal to the world that Catherine had limited eyesight.

The shopkeeper was overly pretentious and made a big show of laying out his entire selection of walking sticks and canes. Catherine found two that she liked, one ebony black with silver tips and another made of cherry, stained a beautiful red with brass tips. The shopkeeper obviously thought them women of fashion, and of fashionable purses, as the price he quoted for both made both women take in a sharp breath. Miss Parks simpered and cooed at him to try to get him to lower the price, but he remained firm. She at least agreed to have him attach her name to the cherry stick so she could think about the purchase, and perhaps return later.

"What is the point of having a pretty face if I cannot negotiate the price of goods," she laughed with good humor after they had left the shop. "Well Lizzy, you will need to continue to be my support and guide since I cannot afford a simple walking stick!"

They were stopped short, and her shawl slipped from one shoulder, as they almost ran into Mr. Darcy. He was walking with another gentleman—a Captain from his insignia—but Mr. Darcy bowed to the ladies.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Parks, how do you do?" The ladies curtsied back to him. "May I present Captain Yelverton? He has a captaincy in the regulars which are to be quartered near here this winter. He and I are old acquaintances; his Colonel is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

The ladies exchanged greetings. The captain was remarkably tall, like Mr. Darcy, but was fair where Mr. Darcy was dark. He smiled greatly at the ladies, especially at Miss Parks. The captain seemed inclined to enter into conversation with the ladies, but Elizabeth exclaimed over the time, and the fact that they were over-due for luncheon. The captain insisted on walking them to their destination, though his offer of his arm to Miss Parks was declined and she clung to Miss Bennet's.

They parted at the door of the Langthorne Inn with assurances from Captain Yelverton that he make a trip to Meryton soon to make a call at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet scolded Elizabeth and Catherine when she heard that they had let an eligible young officer get away; she declared that their luncheon could have easily accommodated an additional two guests, even if one was the disagreeable Mr. Darcy.

Their afternoon passed away quickly and they returned with only a few squabbles on the trip home, and a large number of packages. Jane had returned from her tea at Netherfield and they enjoyed a family dinner together. She, Elizabeth and Catherine had the parlor to themselves that evening. Mrs. Bennet had retired with a headache, Mr. Bennet was in the library for once, and Kitty and Lydia were in Kitty's room looking at the day's purchases.

"Elizabeth, I want to mention something, and I hope you will not find Miss Bingley's remarks too harsh, but Miss Bingley asked if you and Miss Parks had been ill," opened up Jane with a sheepish look at Elizabeth.

Jane explained that Miss Bingley had been initially surprised that they were so fashionable as to have adopted short haircuts and how Amy Goulding had let it slip out how her mother was mortified at short hair on women.

"So Miss Bingley asked why the three of you had short hair and had you been ill? We sat in silence until I simply said, yes, you had all been ill, but that it was over a year ago and were all recovered."

"I can't say I am surprised by Miss Bingley," said Catherine.

"The nerve of her," interjected Elizabeth, "what does it matter to her if we had been ill? She is simply being officious, even abusive. I have never thought much of her, as you know, but I must say that this definitely weighs heavily against her character. I suppose Catherine, Miss Goulding and I will not be invited to Netherfield any more least we infect the family."

"Mrs. Hurst was, perhaps, a bit kinder. She said it gave you all an 'other-worldly' look." Said Jane. "I hope you will not judge her too harshly, we are, after-all, to love our neighbors Lizzy."

But Elizabeth would not be convinced of Miss Bingley's actions as being anything but malicious.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Elizabeth woke in a bad temper and decided to indulge in a long walk. She peeked in Catherine's room, but Catherine was feeling under the weather. Her head ached, so she decided to stay indoors.

Shortly after breakfast Elizabeth headed off from Longbourn determined to exercise the bad spirits from her mind. She was still upset with Miss Bingley's queries about her hair, even if her statements were not overtly malicious. It irked her that she had such an obvious sign to society in general that she had suffered from an illness when she wanted to hide it. It infuriated her more that she had suffered lasting damages from having scarlet fever. She had valued her wit and her ability to hold an intelligent conversation and now felt that she was less valued. How was she to find worth in society? To Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst their worth lay in their money and what it could buy, but to Elizabeth that had always been a secondary notion to her studies with her father, in her reading and conversations with others of a similar mind. She discovered that she enjoyed society when she felt that society was turning its back to her.

Elizabeth had also been so much in company with Catherine, that it was hard to now divest herself from Catherine and her affliction as well. So if Catherine advertised to the world that she needed help, or even asked for that help, it was as if Elizabeth needed to follow that same path.

Her pace took her into Meryton, as Longbourn was only just over a mile from the town. She realized, as she neared the high street, that she did not really wish to engage with anyone. A quick decision to continue on and seek the comfort and solitude of the woods lead her to increase her pace and hope that not many people would be around so early in the morning.

The town center seemed to be a sea of red coats, however, and she spied Mr. Denny and Mr. Matthews on one side of the street with other less-familiar officers arranged in the area in groups. She crossed the road to avoid catching the eye of the two gentlemen. A black figure suddenly came out of the tobacconist and she turned away suddenly, pulling her bonnet brim down to hide her face. She did not wish another encounter with Mr. Cauldwell. Some days she could handle absurdities, but today she wished for solitude. A gust of wind tugged at her shawl and she pulled it close as she sprang back across the street behind the oblivious Mr. Denny and Mr. Matthews who were still talking. Elizabeth set off again towards the edge of town and her goal, but thought she heard her name. Torn between being rude and being so close to her destination, she turned around, and to her surprise, saw Mr. Worthing.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I feared I would not catch you; you seemed to be chased by demons," he flashed her his dangerous smile as she went weak in the knees.

"Mr. Worthing, I apologize," and she curtsied, "I had my mind on other matters, and had my destination set that I did not hear you call out to me."

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He nodded his head as he closed the distance between them.

"I am headed for the Old Park Woods, but it does not follow that I need to be in a hurry," she smiled back at him and he offered her his arm. "I had a lot on my mind, and find that a long walk does wonders for helping me gather my thoughts," she explained.

"Wel,l I am pleased you could stop to converse," and again he smiled down at her. The Meryton high street was a busy place, even so early in the morning. A lot of shopping for the day's meals was apparently handled at this early hour of the day, as the mistresses of homes or their servants made the rounds purchasing bread and fresh meat.

"I have not ventured out on many walks yet since I joined up. Colonel Forster has kept me quite busy. Where are these woods? What are their attractions?" They continued on their way towards the edge of town.

"They are probably quite small in comparison to others, just on the outside of town on the way to Netherfield Hall." His arm tensed briefly when she mentioned Netherfield.

"Do you associate much with the tenants of Netherfield Hall?" He asked quite casually.

"Probably neither more nor less than anyone else in Meryton. I have had tea there with the ladies three times now I believe, and seen the whole party at various social events."

"I hear people quite like Mr. Bingley," remarked Mr. Worthing, "he is reckoned a cheerful man and is judged to have excellent manners."

"Yes, that is true." She offered no more.

"What of the other gentleman?" He prompted after the silence dragged on.

"Which do you mean, Mr. Hurst or Mr. Darcy?"

"I forget there are two," and he chuckled. She could feel his laughter through her hand on his arm.

"I think many people forget about Mr. Hurst, he never says much," laughed Elizabeth, joining in and smiling up at him.

"And Mr. Darcy?" he prompted suddenly smiling again.

"What about him?" Again she did not offer any information.

"Do you know much about him?"

"No, not much at all. I have not really talked to him." She looked with more intensity at his face.

"Is he of the Darcys of Pemberley?" he asked casually looking off into the distance breaking eye contact.

"I don't know. I never heard." He would not look down and seek her eye again.

"Pemberley is in Derbyshire." It was an odd statement to make and Elizabeth was wondering even more at the line of inquiry from Mr. Worthing.

"I was in Stevenage yesterday and ran into Mr. Darcy. He mentioned he had a cousin who was a Colonel in the army," she could not help changing tactics to see how he would respond.

"Well, Miss Bennet, I have reached the end of my rope," he turned to smile at her, releasing her arm, "what I mean is it is the border of town and I will let you continue on your walk. I need to visit the tobacconist." He gave her a very gallant bow but when he looked up he winked. She feared he had known that she had been avoiding Mr. Cauldwell. He then walked quickly back towards the center of town without ever looking back at her.

Elizabeth continued on her way. The trees began to shade the road and she found the path where Catherine and she had ventured off a few days previously and she found the fallen tree waiting for her like an old friend and seated herself.

Her thoughts continued to be on her conversation with Mr. Worthing; she wondered if he did not know some of the Netherfield party before they had moved to Hertfordshire, especially Mr. Darcy. Mr. Worthing had such a warm, charming smile and a friendly manner that it was easy to be comfortable in his presence. It was hard to not contrast him with the absurd Mr. Cauldwell and the distant Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Cauldwell was conceited and gave offense because he was so formal and officious, but he did try to participate in society, unlike Mr. Darcy who seemed reluctant to mingle and be agreeable in society.

As she was thinking of these three different gentlemen, she looked up to see Mr. Darcy coming towards her. She stood up while he strode up to her and bowed.

"Good morning Mr. Darcy," her curtsy was everything that was proper this time.

"Good morning Miss Bennet, I trust you are well? Is Miss Parks in good health? Forgive me, but I do not think I have ever seen you two apart."

"She is well, just resting this morning," she did not feel obligated to advise him of Catherine's feeling unwell.

"I fear I am going to think of you as a woodland sprite, Miss Bennet, as I seem to keep finding you in such a setting, on your log with sunlight dappling your hair." He smiled down at her. Unlike Mr. Worthing's smile which showed his teeth and the dimple on his chin, Mr. Darcy smiled with his eyes and Elizabeth felt a warmth stirring in her chest and belly. She wondered if she would need to sit down again.

"I assure you Mr. Darcy, I am not a woodland sprite, and you have seen me outside of this habitat as well. Did you not meet me in Stevenage yesterday? I can even migrate outside of my usual surroundings."

Mr. Darcy laughed. It was a pleasant laugh, an infectious one and she laughed with him. She had a thought that perhaps Mr. Darcy's laughter was what was dangerous about him.

"Are you returning to Longbourn or Meryton?" His eyebrows lifted.

Elizabeth realized that she could perfectly hear his baritone voice. Perhaps it was like her piano, that somehow his rumbly, deep voice was like the keys on her piano and was heard deep within her, and not with her ears.

She was also cognizant of being alone with him, and so—while she had just reached her destination—she nodded her head and prepared to return up the path.

"May I escort you?" He held out his arm.

"Thank you," she replied as she took it.

"Do you often walk this way?" His other hand indicated the grove.

"I enjoy my walks wherever they take me." Elizabeth was now thinking of running into Mr. Worthing who had a charming smile and dimple, and Mr. Darcy with his warm eyes. This in turn made her think of Catherine with her disarming smile. Dr. Markham had often remarked about Catherine's smile, did it truly affect gentlemen as much as Mr. Worthing's and Mr. Darcy's smile seemed to affect Elizabeth, given how much she was thinking about both gentlemen? It was a good thing there was nothing disarming about Mr. Cauldwell unless it was his ability to push absurd to new levels.

"I ran into Mr. Worthing on my way here, have you met him? He has just recently joined the militia," she asked as they left the wood and reached the road.

"I have not yet had that privilege, no," he professed.

"He asked a couple of questions about you and Mr. Bingley. He seemed to know about you, or at least, I _presume_ he knew about you." Elizabeth suddenly felt awkward for bringing up the subject.

The subject seemed to silence the talkative Mr. Darcy. He walked her to the edge of town, dropped his arm, bowed to her and set off back the way they had come. Elizabeth wondered at the perverseness of having had _two_ escorts that morning, yet not having succeeded in her goal of a walk to the Old Park Woods for some solitude.

She feared she might run into Mr. Cauldwell who might wish to escort her to Longbourn, but she made it through town and back home without encountering anyone.

Catherine was up and said she was feeling better. The Gouldings were having a supper party the day after the next and she wished to be fully well by then, so she continued to rest and returned to her room for the afternoon.

Shortly before teatime the house was in an uproar. Captain Yelverton came to call. He was profuse in his apologies at calling in the afternoon and not in the proper morning hours, but explained that he could not get away any earlier that day. Mrs. Bennet was thrilled, such a tall gentlemen, and a Captain was practically a Colonel!

Captain Yelverton charmed all of the Bennet ladies and readily accepted an invitation to stay for tea. He regaled them with stories of his boyhood in Devon, with a few stories of army life. The ladies were an attentive audience. Lydia wondered that he had not joined the Navy—having grown up in Devon and near the sea—but he said he had no sea legs. The captain appeared to be concerned that Miss Parks was unwell and not able to join them, but insisted that he would call another day as well.

Mrs. Bennet's invitation to supper was declined as he was due in Meryton to meet Colonel Forster, but he repeated his assurances that he would call again. Not letting him slip out of her hands, she insisted on fixing a day and time for a proper supper and finally let him on his way.

* * *

A carrier from Stevenage arrived the next day. He brought a new mantel clock that Mrs. Bennet had purchased for the evening parlor. He also brought a package addressed to Miss Catherine Parks. As Catherine had not purchased anything, she at once insisted that there was a mistake in the addressing, but the carrier insisted that the address was correct and that the merchant had been most insistent about the package being delivered that day.

Catherine opened the package, which was long and narrow to reveal her cherry walking stick. All the ladies exclaimed over its beauty.

"There must be a mistake, I did not purchase the walking stick," Catherine exclaimed as the Bennet ladies passed the stick amongst themselves.

"Someone must have purchased it for you!" Kitty said

"It must be that captain we met yesterday!" Exclaimed Lydia. "He must be in love with you. He was most put out that you could not come down to tea!"

"Why would he purchase the walking stick for me? How would he know I even wanted it?" argued Catherine as the stick was passed back to her.

"He must admire you deeply," insisted Lydia, "he asked that self-important man Mr. Darcy about you and _he_ told him all about you."

"Why would Mr. Darcy talk about Miss Parks to Captain Yelverton?" contended Elizabeth as she looked at her family all looking so intently at her friend. Miss Parks was blushing most self-consciously.

"I don't know, but now I cannot wait for Mamma's supper party to see him again. He was most handsome, was he not Kitty?" Lydia clasped her hands to her shoulders and hugged herself.

"You would think it was _you_ that he was courting!" Huffed Kitty looking at Lydia.

The furor died down and the family was able to contemplate their tea in peace. Elizabeth took a moment when everyone was distracted to talk with Catherine.

"Do _you_ think it was Captain Yelverton who purchased the walking stick?"

"I cannot think that a total stranger would do such a thing Lizzy. While I do occasionally see gentlemen act in funny ways around me, I cannot contemplate that he would do such a thing."

"What about Mr. Darcy? He at least knows you, though it has only been an acquaintance of a couple weeks, could it perhaps be Mr. Darcy that sent you the stick?" At this Miss Parks looked sharply at Elizabeth.

"I don't know, perhaps," she whispered. Then Catherine looked down at her hands and picked at her skirts.

Elizabeth dropped the subject, presented with a new one. Did Mr. Darcy admire her friend? They had not met him very often, and he really had little to say when they met in society, yet that first day in the woods, when she had fallen and he had caught her, had that sparked something in him for Catherine? And in Stevenage he and the Captain had escorted them all the way back to the Langthorne Inn. The conversation there had been easy and pleasant. And just the previous day he had inquired most particularly about Miss Parks when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had met again. Did he admire Miss Parks? The idea made Elizabeth a little uneasy and quieter that evening than she normally was. Both she and Miss Parks retired early.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

On the morning of the Goulding's supper, Elizabeth came down wearing a blue dress. This went by without a remark. Jane felt like she did not attempt to cross wits with Elizabeth over the change out of mourning attire. Breakfast was often noisy anyways, with everyone sharing their plans for the day. Lydia was wild with delight that she was to attend the event while Kitty was remarkably subdued. Catherine was much improved, health-wise, and remarked that she was looking forward to the evening.

Mr. Bennet seemed distracted by a letter he had received and invited Elizabeth to join him after breakfast.

"I have a letter from your dutiful Uncle Gardiner. He has found a good gentleman of law who thinks he may have a legal angle for me," he waved her to her seat. "I wonder if you, and Miss Parks—since you two are inseparable—would accompany me to London. I fear we will go by stage and leave your mother the carriage, but as it is less than a day's ride, it should not be too bad. Not like having to get from a place like Derbyshire to London."

"Yes Papa, we will come. But does not that add an additional expense to this? And this cannot be a cheap venture though I do not know what fees a lawyer may charge. Or is there more to it than what you have told me?"

"I have not yet told Mrs. Bennet what I am up to." His eyes twinkled. "So now I need to invent some excuse to take you and Miss Parks to London."

"I cannot think of an excuse to give Mamma why you and Catherine and I should go to London and leave the rest of the family here," she leaned an elbow on the desk and stared up at him.

"Aye, that is my dilemma. And I just do not wish to tell your Mamma, so we must think of something!" And he patted her hand that lay against her cheek.

Elizabeth had so many affairs to worry about now she felt compelled to walk, but fearing a repeat of the previous day's events, she walked the paths close to Longbourn. She did not find any relief to her dilemma as to an excuse for her Papa or relief from her concerns about Mr. Darcy and her friend.

* * *

The women spent most of the afternoon getting ready for the dinner at the Gouldings. Mr. Goulding's grandfather had been in trade, but had retired from it and bought the property, Tilsworth. It was in the out-laying area of Meryton, so visits to the Goulding estate had always been limited when the Bennet girls had been growing up. Lucas Lodge was only a mile away, Tilsworth was over five miles. Amy Goulding had once joked that she had grown up in the country when the others had been town folk.

The Bennet carriage conveyed the family to Tilsworth Hall. The evening was a crisp, yet warm one. Fall was certainly being kind and not blowing in with chills, fogs or too much rain to dampen everyone's spirits, not yet. Elizabeth had a new dress. She felt self-conscious about it, and tried to down-play the compliments, especially the ones that came, later in the evening, from Miss Bingley.

Lydia and her mother headed to the center of the pack of women who were gathered together to exclaim over dresses and hair. Kitty seemed to be torn. She watched her younger sister laughing and pointing at someone's dress, but stood still and watched.

"I think Kitty is feeling lost, do you mind if I go rescue her?" Lizzy asked Catherine from their spot on the sofa.

"Not at all," answered Miss Parks, though not without wondering what she would do if Elizabeth would not come back. Some days she wondered if she should not have a paid companion to care for her, or at least a stick to help her navigate a room. She had so far propped her new walking stick up in a corner of her room, but had not touched it since its delivery. Not knowing who it was from, she felt she could not use it in good conscience.

Lizzy lilted up to Kitty and wrapped an arm around her. "Why don't you come and sit with Catherine and me until dinner is ready?"

Kitty agreed, and her shoulders seemed to straighten as she turned away from the clutch of women and came back to the sofa. The three sat and had a pleasant time watching the parties as they arrived. The Netherfield party had come a bit late, which had peeved Mrs. Goulding, but arrive they did.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were effuse in their greetings to the Gouldings. Miss Bingley grabbed Miss Goulding's arm for a walk about the room and as secret a conversation as can be had in a room full of people.

Mr. Bingley attached himself to Jane almost immediately and they found a less-trafficked corner to talk. Elizabeth smiled at the pair before turning back to her two companions.

Mr. Darcy scanned the room as if he were looking for someone and headed over to the corner that held Elizabeth, her friend and her sister. He placed himself in a chair, and then angled it a bit so that he was afforded a better view of the damask sofa that held the trio of ladies.

No one seemed to notice where Mr. Hurst landed.

The dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Bennet felt that Mrs. Goulding was trying to out-do _her_ dinner from the previous week, and seemed determined to find something wrong with it. But the roast was fabulous, the fish succulent and the partridges perfect. It was not in Mrs. Bennet's purview to think that Mrs. Goulding would not aspire to try and top the Bennet dinner. For what are neighbors, but someone with whom to compete with in such a manner? Mrs. Goulding, however, was simply doing her best to entertain. But if she happened to encourage a likely suitor for one of her children, so much the better.

The party broke up into many sets of card players. Lydia complained loudly that there was no dancing, but Mr. Goulding hinted they might be able to accommodate such a request later.

At Catherine's insistence that she not just sit the whole evening, Elizabeth joined a card table. She played whist with other young ladies. Catherine sat at her side and they talked softly while she played.

"I see that Mr. Bingley has claimed your sister as his partner Elizabeth," Catherine indicated with her head.

"Yes, he always seems to collect her at the beginning of social gatherings, doesn't he?" She concentrated on her game.

"He definitely admires her, that much is in evidence. No one can deny his affection for her by just looking at him," she glanced over at the card table where Jane and Bingley sat with Amy Goulding and Alexander Wilding. Mr. Bingley had the happiest expression on his face. "But does your sister return his regard? She admitted that she admired him after the Assembly Ball, but since then she has been more guarded in her pronouncements about her feelings for Mr. Bingley." They looked again at Jane Bennet who was looking up at Mr. Bingley with a sweet smile, but not displaying the joyous emotion he seemed to reflecting back at her.

"It is early days yet Catherine, what are we expecting that their slight preference of a fortnight's acquaintance lead to a rash declaration of love and a hastily arranged marriage?" She frowned at her friend and did not attend to her game.

"But how long is Bingley to remain at Netherfield? Is he not just here for the shooting? What if he decides to return to London and thinks no more of Jane?"

"Then it was only a slight, thin sort of inclination on his part and he does not deserve Jane!" Elizabeth declared with more emotion than she intended. She glanced again at the couple. Bingley appeared to be talking animatedly at Jane, but Jane was her calm self and attending him, but the other two at her table as well. Was Jane in love with Mr. Bingley? She had admired him after the Meryton assembly, but had not mentioned him much lately. Was her admiration of him fleeting? Elizabeth realized that with her being pulled back into social events it meant she had less time to check in with her sisters to see how they were faring. She had quite a growing list of concerns.

The card game did not last much longer and Mr. Goulding was true to his word and dancing was formed in part of the room. Mrs. Bennet allowed an elated Lydia to join in the sets since her husband was not in attendance.

Elizabeth and Catherine found their damask sofa in the corner unoccupied and reclaimed it intending to listen to the effusive piano playing of Miss Taylor who always obliged companies with her excellent fingering. Mr. Darcy found his chair again and sat silently by the two ladies.

Mr. Bingley and Jane joined in a set of dances along with other couples like Amy Goulding and Mr. Wilding. After the first set, a scenario from the Meryton Assembly was repeated and Mr. Bingley came to find his friend to insist on his dancing.

"Darcy, you should come dance! You cannot have any objection now. You cannot say that you do not know any of the young women. You can have your pick of any of the ladies tonight, come, you must dance."

Catherine thought that Bingley had had a little too much of Mr. Goulding's wine with supper as his voice carried, and he was so effusive in his speech. Elizabeth was leaning forward, straining unsuccessfully to hear all his words. Mr. Darcy glanced over at the two ladies looking at him and his friend and they looked down at their laps.

"Bingley, I think Miss Bennet is waiting your favors, you had best return to her. I will not dance tonight." Again he glanced over at the ladies. They had both turned back to look at the two gentlemen and Mr. Darcy felt that their scrutiny was perhaps too much to bear as he stood up and walked to another part of the room.

"What were they talking about Catherine?" Elizabeth clasped her friend's hand as Bingley walked back to dance with Jane.

"Bingley wanted Darcy to find a partner and come dance," she answered truthfully.

"Why did Mr. Darcy keep looking this way?" She followed him as he found the table with the coffee and was helped to a cup by Mrs. Goulding.

"I do not know" she answered, though she looked at Mr. Darcy and then at her friend "did you notice that he sat near us before dinner as well," asked Catherine looking sideways at her friend.

"I did not. I was concerned with Kitty," she scanned the room and found her younger sister dancing with a young man she did not recognize. She suspected he was one of the new neighbors her Mamma had talked at length about and for which she had no ear in more ways than one.

"And he was at the card table right next to us when you played whist," mentioned Catherine. Again she glanced over at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth felt like a stone was suddenly landed in her stomach and that she had straw in her mouth. She did not know what to say to Catherine, and she felt that perhaps here was more evidence of Mr. Darcy's affection, subtle, but evidence of his affection for Miss Parks.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Parks," a voice drew her from her thoughts. Miss Bingley was before her in a gold dress that accentuated all of her assets. They nodded their greetings. Miss Bingley sat down and was remarkably chatty about small, subtle and minute details of her social life since their last encounter. Elizabeth listened in silence with the occasional head nod. She had not forgiven her for her questions to Jane.

"You know I will quite miss Hertfordshire when we come away," remarked Miss Bingley. Elizabeth turned now to look at the gold-clad lady next to her. She assumed Miss Bingley had discussed plans for leaving Netherfield and guessed correctly that the party meant to leave soon.

"When exactly do you think you will go?" Elizabeth hoped that Miss Bingley had not already stated this.

"While the shooting season can last a couple months I am told, I was really hoping that Charles would have his fill soon and we could soon return to London. I know that Mr. Darcy is bored already."

"Does not Mr. Darcy have an estate of his own? He should be familiar with the season therefore; I would think that would be one thing that is part of his nature, and he should be enjoying the shooting," offered Miss Parks.

"Oh but I think he is missing his own estate, Pemberley, which is such a fine place. And his sister Georgiana Darcy is such a delight!" Elizabeth and Catherine just squeezed hands as Miss Bingley waxed on about the merits and accomplishments of Miss Darcy. She finally ran out of things to say on the subject of Mr. Darcy's sister, but returned to their leaving Hertfordshire.

"Really, you have to admit there is no variety to be had in the country; it is a confined unvarying society. I cannot wait until we get to London."

"Would Mr. Darcy come with you, or would he return to his estate to see his sister? Does she live at Pemberley?" Catherine leaned over a bit to query Miss Bingley.

"Of course Mr. Darcy would come with us! You must know what it is like to be stuck in such a place like Meryton, Miss Parks; you have not always lived in such a small world, have you not? Did you not live in Bath? And have you not had a London season? It must add to why you look out of place, or other worldly—to have lived elsewhere and be stuck here." Miss Bingley stood as her sister approached and they walked off arm-in-arm.

"She is friendly one minute and then insults you the next," said Elizabeth as they watched her walk off, with her beautiful golden train trailing behind. "I just don't think she sees beyond the end of her own nose sometimes."

The dancing ended after four sets and the party was declared by most attendees as a success, even if Mrs. Bennet struggled to find some fault with the dinner.

* * *

Elizabeth woke to the same thoughts that had closed her eyes, her promise to her Papa to find an excuse to go to London, her concern over Mr. Darcy's feelings for her friend, and a concern over Jane's feelings for Mr. Bingley.

Despite the late hour the night before, it was still early. She hopped out of bed and opened a drawer, pushed aside some underpinnings and pulled out the pamphlet her father had given to her. Crawling back into bed, she opened the pamphlet for the first time.

The pamphlet described using your hands in various positions and with various movements to communicate with the deaf and dumb. It showed a simple set of common words and phrases in its pages. It described how the signs had been developed by a Catholic priest Abbe de l'Epee and had been adopted in the United Kingdom by an Edinburgh educator Thomas Braidwood. Lizzy tried out a few of the movements with her hands, then felt self-conscious and laughed at herself. She flipped the pamphlet closed on her counterpane and only then noticed that there was an imprint on the back about a new school that had been formed in London. "The Asylum for the Support and Education of the Deaf and Dumb Children of the Poor" had been founded by Reverend John Townsend in 1792.

Her curiosity was piqued. Elizabeth wondered if this could be the excuse that they could give her mother for going up to London. She was too old to be a student. And probably not even deaf enough to attend, but her curiosity was roused just by reading the name of the school. The Bennet family was not poor enough to qualify for any aid, not rich enough to be a benefactor, but perhaps there was some good that could come from visiting the school. Mrs. Bennet would not likely ask too many questions of the venture.

Elizabeth wanted to fly into Catherine's room and talk to her about it, but she hesitated as she did not want another topic to come up. She opted to not disturb Catherine and dressed, and ran down to an empty breakfast room. Her meal was brief. Throwing a shawl over her shoulders she headed out the door.

When she found herself on her log in the Old Park Woods before she could truly reflect on where she wanted to walk to, she was not surprised. The day was cool and cloudy. Their spate of fair autumn weather had ended and while she always wore good boots, the shawl she had on was, perhaps, a bit thin for the wind that whistled through the copse.

Elizabeth could not help but think of Mr. Darcy since he had appeared twice before in that grove. As if she were a magical creature of some kind and could compel him into existence, he came along the path. This time, he was not alone, Mr. Bingley was with him. They appeared to be arguing, or at least talking with raised voices as she could hear their voices echoing off the canopy above and around her though she could not make out the words. They stopped abruptly when they saw her. She stood and dropped a curtsy and Mr. Darcy bowed. Mr. Bingley was red in the face and hesitated before bowing to her.

"Miss Bennet, I think I may need to carry a journal and take notes about the habits of woodland sprites," those laughing eyes danced down at her and a grin broke out on her face which she schooled as she looked at Mr. Bingley. He had a serious look on his face, which was such a contrast to his usually cheery look.

"Miss Bennet, are you out quite alone?" It was an uncharacteristic question from the usually congenial Bingley. Whatever the topic of discussion that had brought the two men out of Netherfield, it was obviously still bothering him as his tone was less than pleasant.

"I fear my family members are not the early risers that I am, and I wished for a walk. Mr. Darcy can attest that this is a favorite destination of mine," she looked over at him. A cold gust of wind swept through, swirling up leaves and carrying with it the scent of rain. "You two are also up early, I see."

"We wished to get out of the house for air and exercise before the rain hits," Darcy explained.

"You had really best return home Miss Bennet, I fear it is due to rain soon," Mr. Bingley pressed as if he wished to be rid of her. "You are quite far afield."

"I fear you may not make it back home in time before the rain hits," countered Darcy, "perhaps you need to shelter at Netherfield until we can safely return you to Longbourn?" He glanced at his friend who remained fixed at the edge of the grove, looking up at the gray clouds as if willing them to rain on him and add to his misery. "You will have to forgive Mr. Bingley, he is not in the best of spirits this morning," whispered Darcy. "We were discussing some travel plans, and I fear he is not happy with the arrangements. We are planning to go up to London soon."

"Are you really? My father and I hope to go visit my uncle in London soon. I enjoy London when I can visit, my aunt and uncle have been kind enough to allow Jane and me to visit often." At the mention of Jane's name, Mr. Bingley looked sharply over at the two of them.

"Is Miss Bennet going to London?" He called out, walking over to Elizabeth and Darcy. Elizabeth did not get a chance to answer as the clouds parted with a thunder-clap and rain began to pour down on the three of them.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Elizabeth felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water over her. The canopy of trees afforded no protection from the downpour and she pulled her shawl up over her bonnet in a vain effort to keep some of the water off of her. There was a magnificent oak tree that brooded on one side of the grove and she sprinted over to its side. Its large branches afforded more protection from the rain which thankfully fell straight down; the wind did not yet play with the droplets and send them sideways as can happen in fierce storms. The sky had darkened so much because of the heaviness of the clouds, and the over-hanging branches, that she was startled by a voice in her ear. Mr. Darcy had crept near her without her being the wiser.

"Miss Elizabeth, judging by the clouds, I fear that this may be of some duration, are you well? Charles wants to attempt to return to Netherfield, but we are all likely to be soaked through by the time we get there." He looked intently at her face, taking in her beautiful dark eyes, and the lashes wet with the rain. She ran a hand across her cheeks, wiping the moisture off while she thought.

"I have on thick boots, but fear that my shawl may not be adequate. Do you really think it may rain for some time?" She tore herself away from his dark gaze to look out at the stream of water that was knocking lose leaves from trees and beginning to form tiny rivulets along the contours of the ground. Mr. Bingley stood across the grove looking at the two of them in discussions. She could tell he was impatient to return to his home. "How far is it to Netherfield from here? My Aunt's house in Meryton may be closer."

"I fear Mr. Bingley has only one destination in mind today: his study, and the bottle of brandy in it. And for propriety's sake I think that we should stick together. Last time we met, no one was the wiser that you and I met unescorted, but there would be questions today if I escorted you to your Aunt's house."

"Especially looking like this," and she looked down at her sodden garments and then blushed as she realized how thoroughly soaked she was. Mr. Darcy looked briefly away as if embarrassed, though he could not help glancing at her clinging skirts before he turned his head.

"Away to Netherfield then, "she replied boldly, and pulled her shawl down off of her head and wrapped it as snuggly as she could around her shoulders.

"If we set a fast pace, we may make it to the Hall in fifteen or twenty minutes," he explained and then sprinted across the grove to Mr. Bingley. It was cold, leaving the shelter of the great oak, and she was soon soaked completely through down to her chemise. The three set off at a very quick pace, Mr. Darcy's long legs setting a gait that at least brought a glow to her cheeks, if not to her chilled limbs. The going was rougher than had been expected as many streams cropped up that had not existed when the gentlemen had left the house first thing in the morning. At more than one point they had to wade through ankle-deep water, and Mr. Darcy wondered at offering to carry Miss Bennet, but Elizabeth walked through or leapt over the streams without asking for help. Mr. Bingley said not a word on the walk back except for what were probably a few naughty words under his breath whenever they came across an obstacle or the wind happened to whip the water up, stinging, into their faces.

Netherfield Hall came into sight, though only after double Mr. Darcy's estimate of time. The mud had sucked at their boots, and bushes grabbed at their limbs, and seemed to slow them down just as much as the rivulets that they had to leap over had. Elizabeth thought she was never so happy as to contemplate the wonderment of glazing as she spied the glow of lamps through the windows. The lights twinkled at her as though fairies with golden wings were fluttering inside, dancing. And at that moment, not watching the path in front of her, she slipped. Mr. Darcy, tired after forty minutes of hiking, had a loose grip on her arm and Elizabeth fell. By instinct she threw an arm out to break her fall, and she felt her wrist bend painfully as she landed on the path.

Mr. Darcy was next to her in a heartbeat, and helped her to roll over. Sitting with her knees bent and tears streaming from her eyes—though not at all visible in the pelting rain—she took a few deep breaths to steady herself.

"Are you well? Did you hurt yourself? Can you make it into the house?" He leaned very closely to her left ear; almost close enough to kiss her if her brim wasn't in the way. She continued taking deep breaths while trying to play down the pain in her left wrist.

"My wrist—I landed badly on it—I fear I have sprained it." She took another breath. Mr. Darcy leaned over as if he was going to pick her up. Mr. Bingley seemed to have gone inside already, like a horse so near its own stable that it knows which stall to shelter in. "I can make it to the house if you can help me stand."

He gathered her in his arms and picked her up, but then set her down on her feet while still holding her, proprieties be damned at that point. "Okay to stand?"

"Yes, thank you." He let go of her and offered his arm again. The rain had so thoroughly soaked them and raged around them that they seemed to no longer notice it any more. And as if it was a sunny day, and observing all proprieties, and not with a mud-splattered dress, and breeches that had been torn by low-hanging branches, they walked into Netherfield Hall.

Mr. Bingley's homecoming had already caused the household to be in a whirlwind of activity, so Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet's entrance was not as scandalous an entrance as may have been otherwise. Mr. Bingley had already ordered baths to be drawn, a room to be made ready for Miss Bennet, and had briefly informed his sisters of the morning's events. The two women had slept in and were still in the breakfast room. Divesting himself of his coat and boots, Bingley had partaken of a shot of brandy before he ran upstairs to change out of his wet clothes. He did not stop to see that his new guest was being taken care of; assuming that Darcy or someone else would handle that.

It may be he did not care to play host to another guest, with his sister Louisa and her husband feeling so free to call his house their home when it suited them, which was often. Caroline was there to help him with his household so she could step in and could help Darcy—who was less a guest than a brother figure—with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Charles was the youngest of six children, the only boy. He had _five_ older sisters. He was the coveted son, and so often spoiled child, though of a naturally happy nature. But the guest today was the sister to Miss Jane Bennet, and Miss Jane Bennet was causing Bingley some heartache. From that first Assembly dance where he had found her delightfully light on her feet to that supper where they had discussed so many subjects and had seemingly shared the same opinions, she had been all he could think of. At every social event in the past three weeks in Hertfordshire he had swept into the room with one intent, to find Miss Bennet and once securing her to his arm had not let another man put a wedge between himself and his object of happiness.

He was dismayed; therefore, that Caroline had begun to discuss returning to London. He often tuned out her ideas or needs and if she complained that she was bored, it did not affect him much. The idea of leaving his angel behind was unthinkable. The Hursts, though so ready to call Mr. Bingley's residence their own most months of the year, did spend Christmas with Mr. Hurst's family, and as November was just a few days away, had brought up their travel plans. But then Darcy had suggested a walk—air and exercise this morning—and little did he realize that Darcy was going to tackle him on his intentions towards Miss Bennet. He loved Jane Bennet; he was wholly convinced of that. She had the most beautiful face and her golden curls were such that he was constantly tempted to reach out and twirl one around his finger. Her manners were proper, her temperament precious, her voice sweet, her eyes blue. And it was while he was pointing out all of these wonderful traits about her to Darcy that Darcy had mentioned that Miss Claire Forthoffer, and Miss Sophia Knox and Miss Cecilia Webster had also had eyes of blue and golden curls.

"You so often fall in love Charles, how is Miss Bennet different than all of the others? Forgive me, you are my dear friend, but you fall in love so quickly, but that just seems to lead to a mare's nest. You have mammas who think you are going to propose, and jealous rivals and the objects of your affection are sometimes overwhelmed by your ardor, as I suspect Miss Bennet is overwhelmed. Does she return your affection Charles?"

"How can you say so Darcy!" cried Bingley passionately and not at all acknowledging what Darcy had said. "She loves me. We have the most wonderful conversations. She has the sweetest disposition I have ever known. Those other women cannot hold a candle to her. She is mine, and mine alone. I cannot believe you cannot see how much she adores me. What kind of friend would tell me such things?"

"Charles I think you are not seeing things clearly. Miss Bingley mentioned…" here he was interrupted by his friend.

"She cannot have anything positive to say. Caroline would never want me to marry; she would be displaced as mistress of Netherfield." He said vehemently. "Darcy you do not know what it is like to have an older sister, _older_ sisters growing up, always telling you what to do and how to behave. It is madness."

"I will not mention family then, but recall that three weeks after staying with me in Pemberley for the shooting; you thought no more of Miss Knox. And when I asked you to come to Ramsgate to help me move Georgiana, as a favor, then you got over your affection for Miss Webster."

"This is different, Darcy," he wailed, though his argument stalled. "I love her, and you don't understand." And it was at this point that they reached the little grove, and saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet on her log. Mr. Darcy would argue that he had walked there unconsciously, but if that was true, then he had done so every day in the past week since he had encountered Miss Parks and Miss Elizabeth Bennet on their log, and had startled them both into awkward curtsies and whispered discussions which had surprised and pleased him.

Darcy did not care about puddles in the foyer. He only cared that Miss Bennet be cared for. A footman was waiting for them, taking in their appearance with wide eyes and Darcy realized that the man could not be out of his teens; probably a local youth who knew the Bennets. Darcy would need to take extra pains to ensure that news was not spread about if it could be helped.

Miss Bingley was fetched, along with an assortment of maids and Elizabeth placed into her care. Elizabeth expected Caroline Bingley to be contemptuous and sneer at her, but Miss Bingley was only surprised. Surprised that Elizabeth had attempted the walk when the weather was indifferent, and surprised at the outcome. She hustled Elizabeth to a bedroom where a bath awaited her. She was informed that Mr. Jones had been sent for, and was assisted from her soaked clothing by capable hands and helped to bathe by a well-appointed staff.

By the time her hair was drying in front of the fire, and she was wearing a loaned nightgown of Miss Bingley's, Elizabeth had to admit that her head ached, her throat hurt and her body was shivering despite the blazing flames. Miss Bingley came back to check on her and to announce Mr. Jones the apothecary. Elizabeth was glad for the concern Miss Bingley expressed for her and felt that she had not quite made out her character.

After examining her wrist, he declared it sprained. He braced it, wrapped it well and produced a sling for her. He also determined that she had a bad cold, and recommended that she keep to her bed until she improved, leaving some draughts that might help improve her symptoms. Mr. Jones knew of her battle with scarlet fever and her hearing loss, so he looked her firmly in the eyes and told her to keep to her bed; he couldn't guarantee that a cold might not adversely affect her hearing. Elizabeth grudgingly agreed.

Darcy and Bingley bathed and changed. Bingley had another glass of brandy and Darcy joined him. Darcy was not sure if he wasn't coming down with a cold as well, as his chest hurt. Neither brought up their topic of discussion from the morning.

"Bingley! We need to let the people at Longbourn know what has become of Elizabeth." Darcy stood up, ready to saddle his horse and ride to let the Bennets know of their daughter. Bingley looked over at Darcy's use of Elizabeth's Christian name.

"We can send a note, or have her draft a note to her family. I will have a groom ride over at once. Darcy, you just got out of the rain, perhaps you need to rest?" Bingley could think clearer when not thinking of his paramour.

Darcy sought out Miss Bingley who was sitting with her sister. They were applied to, to ask Miss Bennet for a letter. Elizabeth was found to be sound asleep, so Miss Bingley drafted the letter to Longbourn to relate the news of the morning and to ask that a supply of clothes be sent over. She would not hear of the idea of having her moved, which surprised Darcy when he heard her speak it. When Caroline Bingley said that Elizabeth Bennet couldn't be moved because she was really quite ill, his knees buckled. If Charles had not been so insistent that they go back to Netherfield and Darcy had not been so worried about propriety, she might have made it to her aunt's house in ten minutes and would not have suffered for the trip in the rain in all likelihood.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Mrs. Bennet's shrieks could be heard throughout the whole house. The memory of scarlet fever was not that far removed that she could not easily revive it, and all that she went through with Elizabeth and Mary awoke. She was not to be comforted and no amount of tea would console her. Mrs. Bennet took to her bed with a headache and nerves.

The Bennet sisters and Miss Parks were prodigiously concerned. They were of the same mind, and felt that someone ought to go and see Elizabeth's condition for themselves. Mr. Bennet was applied to, and he agreed with the plan that he and one other should go and visit Elizabeth. There was a lot of discussion as to who should go.

Jane, being the eldest, felt a strong sense of responsibility at going to Elizabeth and seeing to her well-being; Catherine, as her close friend also shared the same sense of responsibility. Lydia agreed that someone should go, but admitted that she was not the best companion in a sick room. Kitty was silent.

"Really, I am the eldest, and should go," espoused Jane. "Even if it means running into Mr. Bingley in the process, I can steel myself to talking with him to ensure that Elizabeth is being well cared for." Jane's lips were tightly held together when she finished, her eyes vast with emotion.

"Why Jane! You said you liked him so much. He was so handsome," declared Lydia, looking at her with wide, wondrous eyes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Jane schooled her face and her thoughts, taking in some deep breaths.

"He was so charming and amiable at first—he still is a most amiable gentleman—and we seem to have so much in common. But by the time of the Harrington's dinner I found that he would claim all of my attention. And Mr. Bingley seems to assume a familiarity I am not willing to admit to, yet he does not seem to take my hints that we have had only an acquaintance of three weeks."

She continued. "I like him well enough, yet I am hesitant with my feelings as he has not asked about them or acknowledged them. I have come to believe he sees me as some ideal woman, and that he has not gotten to know the _real_ me, Jane Bennet." She broke down in tears and Lydia, of all of them, hugged her, crying her own tears.

"Jane, you have said that you always want to see the good in people, is this not so? Is there good in Mr. Bingley?" Catherine asked softly with a lump in her throat.

"Yes, I do not doubt his goodness," Jane wiped her eyes with a dainty handkerchief, "I question his judgment and assumptions about my character. Do we not feel that we want our happiness to depend entirely on one person? After all, there is something bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment. Is that truly possible? Does Mr. Bingley believe that his happiness lies with me and mine with him? But what does he know about what I want?" And she broke down in tears again.

"Jane you _cannot_ go, I must go," Kitty declared from her seat. Catherine looked at her astonished.

"Kitty, I can go see Lizzy," Catherine offered as she dabbed at tears in the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Catherine," and Kitty took her hand as she was sitting next to her, "you cannot see well enough, you would not be the right person to help her out. I must go, don't you see. I can do it." And all four of them knew it as they looked at the square set of Kitty's shoulders that she could. Catherine Parks took no offense at her words, and squeezed the hand back in gratitude.

* * *

Katherine Bennet and her father climbed into the family carriage, and drove off through the rain, which drizzled rather than poured now. They rode in silence to Netherfield. Mr. Bennet had new eyes for his fourth daughter as she seemed to have a confidence about her he had not witnessed before.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were polite in their greetings and said that Elizabeth had slept most of the time that she had been with them. Mr. Darcy joined them for tea and related their adventures of the morning. He left out a few details, like lifting her up, or that she had wished to attempt to get to the Philips' in Meryton. Mr. Bennet was grateful for all that Mr. Darcy and the Netherfield family had done.

The Netherfield ladies escorted the Bennet family up to Elizabeth's room and Mr. Darcy trailed along behind. Propriety would not allow him to be admitted to her room, but he hung in the corridor, wishing to talk to the Bennet family after their visit with Lizzy.

Elizabeth was still asleep as they approached the bed. Mr. Bennet stood to look at his sleeping daughter while Kitty walked up to place a hand on her forehead. She was still feverish and while she moaned once at the touch; she did not wake.

"Papa, she is very hot," Katherine was very straight forward, "should we send for Mr. Jones again?"

"We will certainly call him again," exclaimed Miss Bingley. She and her sister had stood inside the door when the two had approached the bed.

"Please may I not stay with her?" pleaded Kitty looking from her father to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. She felt no qualms about imposing on the Netherfield family. If either of the ladies felt the request impolite it did not show on their faces.

"Yes, of course. I will prepare the room next door," answered Miss Bingley. She turned to go and Mrs. Hurst followed. Mr. Bennet followed them from the room and they were all accosted by Mr. Darcy who wanted to know how Elizabeth was doing. On hearing that she was feverish, he thought that the apothecary might not be the best option, and that they should send for a physician from town. Mr. Bennet said he had every faith in Mr. Jones at the present time.

Mr. Bennet accepted an offer of a brandy from Mr. Darcy and expressed his appreciation of all that the Netherfield family was doing for Elizabeth and now taking on Katherine. He apologized for Kitty's blunt request to stay, but added that it eased his and Mrs. Bennet's mind to have someone from the family to care for her.

"I will be curt, sir, we almost lost her, just over a year ago. The scarlet fever ran through these parts. A number of families were infected, including ours. Elizabeth and our daughter Mary contracted it. Mary did not recover." Mr. Bennet removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "They are, were, both good girls, had been out visiting a family with food and some comfort and contracted it themselves." He looked out the window at the gray clouds, then back to his companion.

Mr. Darcy leaned forward. "Actually I did know that the fever had been through this part of Hertfordshire; my cousin has ties to the War Office. They knew that this area had been hit, that with the fever, the region was hurt, economy-wise. That is why they stationed the militia in Meryton and the regulars in Stevenage, to help give the area a boost."

"I am not sure some of us fathers think having so many men in red coats around our daughters is a boost," remarked Mr. Bennet and the two men laughed. Mr. Bennet replaced his glasses.

"But my Lizzy, she is my lamb. As I said, we almost lost her, and then had to send her away to recover, which was hard on me to have her gone." He looked over at the younger man with whom he was sharing confidences about his favorite, and continued on. "The fever has taken the hearing in one ear and diminished it in the other."

"I had noticed something to that effect. I try to always speak to her on her left side," Mr. Darcy smiled at the older man. "And Miss Parks is partially blind."

"You are an observant man Mr. Darcy." Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow, then nodded, but then decided to not ask why Darcy had bothered to spend so much time observing the two women. Darcy had been able to ascertain the secrets which they strove so hard to hide. A new possibility occurred to Mr. Bennet and he wondered which of the two women Mr. Darcy admired. "Did you, perhaps, send Miss Parks a walking stick?"

"It would be improper of me to admit to the giving of such a gift," Mr. Darcy did not deny or ask 'what walking stick' and effectively answered Mr. Bennet's question.

Mr. Bennet again expressed his thanks for all that the Netherfield family was doing for his daughter, and Mr. Darcy said, as a representative of that family, that he would ensure that she would recover with every amenity given to her. Mr. Bennet wondered that the neighborhood had called him a haughty man when he displayed such excellent manners in this regard as he returned to Longbourn.

Bingley appeared in a cheerful mood at dinner, but no one else from Netherfield seemed to share his feelings. The Hursts were discussing their upcoming travel plans, and lamenting travel when the weather was so deplorable. Miss Bingley was thinking of London and Mr. Darcy was considering that he might have caught a cold. The party all retired early.

Kitty stayed with Elizabeth through the evening. A tray with supper for Kitty and broth for Lizzy was brought up and Lizzy woke long enough to partake of that. Mr. Jones came to see her again, and gave her another draught which made her sleepy. Kitty spent the whole night in her room, changing cloths on her forehead, stoking the fire, or just holding Lizzy's hand.

* * *

The Longbourn family had much on their mind the following day. Mrs. Bennet had a dinner party planned for the evening, with many red coats invited, including the tall Captain Yelverton, the militia's Colonel Forster and several other Captains. There was a lot of discussion in the breakfast parlor as to whether the dinner should be held as planned or cancelled since Elizabeth and Kitty were at Netherfield.

Mr. Bennet thought that they ought to send a note to Netherfield and see how Elizabeth was faring. Mrs. Bennet, after hearing the report from her husband the previous evening, and with the knowledge that a family member had been left behind to care for her, was more inclined to hold her 'red coat dinner,' as she was want to think of the event. Jane convinced her to follow Mr. Bennet's advice and a note was dispatched and answered.

Kitty reported on Mr. Jones' visit and that Elizabeth had slept well through the night. She was still a little feverish, but felt better than she had the previous evening and had been able to eat well. Elizabeth planned to follow Mr. Jones' advice and remain in bed and rest.

This was wonderful news to Mrs. Bennet who seemed to be able to tame her concern for Elizabeth in her excitement at the prospect of so many gentlemen prospects coming to dinner.

Catherine wondered if she would be able to navigate so large a party without Elizabeth's arm. She mentioned this at the breakfast table. Mr. Bennet had been walking through the door, but he turned around.

"Miss Parks, I think you should attend, and perhaps it is time to use your pretty walking stick?" a smile played on his face.

"I will make sure you are comfortable Catherine since Lizzy and Kitty are both away," offered Jane.

"Do you really think that I should use the walking stick, I still do not know who gave it to me," questioned Catherine looking confusedly at Mr. Bennet. She knew he was one for humor and was not sure if this was not just a case of his being witty.

"I think that we may receive more information about that at the party," said Mr. Bennet cryptically.

* * *

Mr. Bingley had regained his usual cheerful countenance and sent an inquiry to the Bennet sisters about their health and informed them to only ask for any need and he would see that it was taken care of. The Netherfield ladies also made inquiries about Elizabeth, but she napped, largely due to Mr. Jones' draughts, and the day passed quietly inside.

The rain continued to fall outside. Mr. Darcy watched it fall from his room. While he felt unwell, his pride did not allow him to consult with Mr. Jones. Darcy dressed, but kept to his rooms, sending word that he had business to attend to when in reality he, like Elizabeth, napped for a large portion of the day. Mr. Hurst, with no real companion and being a social gentleman napped as well—but not because he was ill, only because he was bored.

Supper at Netherfield was quiet again. Darcy came down as well as Kitty and joined the family party. She replied to everyone's inquires that Elizabeth was still feeling ill and that they would need to continue to trespass on their kindness for a day or two longer. Miss Bingley and Mr. Bingley assured Katherine that both ladies could stay as long as was needed.

* * *

At Longbourn, the rain did not deter any of the guests. Captain Yelverton was delayed by the weather since he was traveling from Stevenage, but arrive he finally did.

Lydia was ecstatic to have so many gentlemen around her and two fewer sisters telling her to hold her tongue or mind her manners. Her boisterous nature was in full bloom with such an audience during the well-turned dinner that Mrs. Bennet provided all the gentlemen soldiers and other guests. Seated between Mr. Denny and another regimental captain she felt as if this was her coming-out party, flirting with both gentlemen and indulging in too much wine. Jane was seated too far away from her to hiss at her to behave and Mrs. Bennet cold only see the attention that the gentlemen were paying her youngest daughter as a thing of pleasure.

Jane Bennet had a pleasant evening in discussions with Colonel Forster who was a well-educated, gentleman-like man. A few of the ladies in town had attempted to catch his eye, but rumor was that he had mentioned a certain Miss Henrietta Smith who resided in Kent, and expectations were that he intended to make her an offer. Jane and Colonel Forster conversed with ease, and without the bother of flirtation, which suited them both.

The walking stick of Catherine Parks made its first appearance and she found that it did allow her to negotiate a room without a hand at her elbow: provided the room was not too crowded. Jane did remain nearby and Catherine knew that sitting was always her best option anyways, so she found her seat and remained seated. Mr. Bennet also remained in close proximity to her. After dinner, when Captain Yelverton made his rounds of the room and ended up seated with Miss Parks, he took no notice, whatsoever, of the walking stick. It was the confirmation that Mr. Bennet had wanted. There were two possible suspects in his mind to have sent the gift, and he felt sure that if Captain Yelverton had been the culprit then he would have betrayed himself, even slightly, at the sight of the stick held gingerly in Miss Parks' hands.

Mr. Darcy had sent the walking stick to Miss Parks and Darcy's observations about both the women had been because of his admiration for Miss Parks, concluded Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet chuckled, however, watching Captain Yelverton moving his hands as he talked animatedly to Miss Parks, Darcy may have a rival if he is not careful.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The sky was still gray, but the rain had let up, and came only in patches, and on her third day at Netherfield, Elizabeth Bennet felt that her symptoms were lessening. Her throat was only a little sore, her headache was gone and while she still felt a little hot; she was no longer so feverish that she longed only for sleep.

Her wrist still plagued her with pain and when she sat up in bed she found that the sling that Mr. Jones had provided did help. She supposed that in thrashing around in the bed for the past day and a half without the sling to provide support she may have reinjured it, or at least it had not provided the wrist the chance to begin to heal.

Kitty was sitting by the fire reading. Mr. Bingley had provided her with some books and she was quiet, but happy, in her pursuits. Her needlework basket lay untouched as she read through a number of selections.

Mrs. Hurst knocked, entered and inquired after her health. They visited for a few minutes. There was not much news to discuss as the weather had kept the Netherfield family indoors since the rain began. A bath was requested, promised and delivered.

Elizabeth dismissed the maid and attempted to manage the bath herself, but with her splinted wrist found that she could not, and cried out in frustration. Kitty came over to inquire about Elizabeth's shriek.

"Do you need help Lizzy?" She still held her book in one hand, a finger marking the page.

"No I do _not_ need help Kitty!" Lizzy fumbled for a few more moments.

"Lizzy, I think we should have asked Mr. Jones if you could bathe, or at least if we could remove the bandages before a bath if you took one," offered Kitty gently. She put her book down on a table and turned back to Elizabeth.

"I can manage," grumbled Elizabeth, not hearing all of Kitty's words as she splashed accidentally.

"You should at least have kept the maid here to help if you don't want me to help you Lizzy," continued Katherine, still gently.

"I despise this, I am not a child who needs help; I do not need help!" and she slapped the bath water with both hands. Her splint instantly was soaked. Elizabeth could not hold in her tears and let them stream from her eyes even as she set her teeth together so she would not make any noise and cry out.

"Lizzy it is acceptable to ask for help. But this is not about your bath is it? It is about being sick, and going away to Kent and really, it is about your ears." Kitty looked at Lizzy who was trying to steel her face.

Elizabeth just sat in her wet chemise, with her dripping splint propped on the side of the tub with more tears leaking from her eyes. She did not dare answer, as to open her mouth would let lose a torrent of tears and emotions.

"Elizabeth Bennet you are not a weak person. You are my brave sister. You used to be Saint George and slay the dragon when we were little. We all wanted to be the Princess, but _you_ wanted to be Saint George. You always defended us, think of pushing John Lucas in the mud when he pulled our plaits and teased us one too many times? You defend those you love. You do what you believe is right. You are not afraid in the face of great danger. Think of how many people refused to help the poor when the scarlet fever hit, and yet you kept going." Kitty stared firmly into her older sister's eyes.

"And for it, Mary is gone, and I am deaf," she sobbed, taking in a deep breath. The tears streamed down her cheeks and she ran a hand over her cheeks, and then held it over her mouth trying to steady herself.

"Yes, Mary is gone," tears streamed from her eyes now, "but you cannot blame yourself for that. Your hearing is gone in one ear, but you can still hear in the other, and you can still love, and you can still believe and you can be brave. And you can be debilitated, all at the same time. This means letting me help you Lizzy Bennet. You helped others, it is time you let others help you."

"When did you grow up Katherine?" Elizabeth attempted a smile around her hand, and more tears spilled down her cheeks, but she could wipe them away and then reach out with her good hand and they clasped hands tightly.

Kitty helped Lizzy carefully remove the wet splint. She washed her hair, and helped Lizzy finish her bath. After she was tucked back in bed, they held hands and cried a little more. For Mary mostly, sharing stories of her, the things they missed, the little annoying things Mary used to do that they missed even more, and wondering if there was some way to help celebrate her life.

Mr. Jones came to check on his patient and clucked loudly about the splint. He reset Elizabeth's wrist and gave her a new sling with an even sterner admonition to remain in bed. Miss Bingley was appealed to by Mr. Jones to ensure that this would happen; Caroline Bingley nodded her assent, but her eyes and thoughts were elsewhere. She left shortly after Mr. Jones hurried away.

Mr. Brunton and Mr. Cauldwell came to call at Longbourn. They were surprised and perhaps a little put out that only Miss Bennet and Miss Parks greeted them. They inquired after the other three Bennet daughters. The gentlemen were informed that two were visiting Netherfield. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia had taken the carriage to visit with Mrs. Philips, deciding that they were in need of town news and in need of imparting news about the Bennet dinner party.

Mr. Brunton explained that he was renewing old acquaintances and wished that Mr. Bennet was in attendance. Jane took the hint and fetched her father from his library, but after he came, Mr. Brunton did not have much to say. Mr. Cauldwell was eloquent in his use of words and elaborate on the number of subjects he could speak about, even if he jumped from subject to subject with no logic between them.

He inquired after all the daughters, and paid especially flattering compliments to Jane, who felt that they rang false or too studied, as if he had read them in a book. This was especially true in that he seemed to ignore the other female occupant of the room and paid Catherine little attention. Had there been other women it might have been a less-noticeable distinction.

Mr. Bennet looked at Mr. Cauldwell with that crooked smile that meant that he was enjoying listening to his odd and absurd observations on the nature of anything that happened to strike him at the time. Mr. Cauldwell spoke at length about general topics, but most especially about himself. About his studies at Oxford, his ordination and his interviews with patrons and the fact that he had not yet been offered a living. None of these patrons could, of course, see or appreciate his brilliance; he was an excellent orator and his sermon-making was superb. The ladies listened in silence to his estimations of his own abilities.

He also talked about losing both of his parents before entering Oxford and living on investments that had not provided him with the capitol that he apparently needed to live on, so that he was in need of a living.

"Are you looking to see if Rev. Vickers is in need of help? He only recently moved into the parsonage," mentioned Mr. Bennet trying to get Mr. Cauldwell to understand that the Reverend was still a young man and Meryton was not likely to be in need of a vicar any time soon.

"I could not consider being a curate," Mr. Cauldwell said loftily, "I am certain that my fortunes in life lie above such a position. I have been born for a greater position in life."

"Perhaps it is time to go," Mr. Brunton cut in brusquely. The gentlemen rose, paid their respects to the family and left, faster than Mr. Bennet considered possible considering how long-winded Mr. Cauldwell's speeches were in general, even if it was about leave-taking.

Mr. Bennet retired to his library again and the ladies speculated on the reasons for his calling. It was obvious that the expressed purpose—Mr. Brunton's renewal of old ties—was not the real reason. But as to why Mr. Cauldwell wished to be connected to the Bennet family was a mystery. Catherine questioned if he was not known to them somehow, but Jane assured her that he had been a complete stranger until the dinner at the Philips'.

Mrs. Bennet and Lydia returned after midday. Visits to Aunt Philips were always illuminating, and that morning Mr. Worthing and Mr. Denny happened to have called.

Lydia had only words of praise for Mr. Worthing. He had all the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance a good figure and a readiness of conversation which surpassed Mr. Denny's who was now reckoned boorish in comparison to the easy flow of conversation she had had from Mr. Worthing. She cared not a whit that he was only an ensign and recently joined; that he wore a red coat was enough to elevate him in her eyes.

There was also to be a party at the Lucas' if only the rain would stop, and Lizzy and Kitty return. But the best news of all was that there was a private who had been flogged.

Elizabeth spent the day in her room. The present had always occupied her before her illness, the immediacy of people and events, but since the fever she had found herself more contemplative with thoughts of the recent past, of Mary, and of the scarlet fever. The fever reminded her of the book Mr. Bennet had given her, however, and of their trip to London. She had not yet had the chance to talk to him about London and she felt spurned on to recover quickly so that she could help her father with his plans for meeting the lawyer in London about the entail.

Elizabeth encouraged Kitty to join the Netherfield party for dinner, so Kitty dressed carefully and made her way downstairs. She had been pleased with the reception from the family so far, even if the gentlemen did not speak to her much.

Kitty received kind attention from Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Hurst about Elizabeth. Caroline and Bingley were not as attentive in their inquiries. It was perhaps, that their minds were on other matters.

Caroline had found Charles alone at breakfast, since Darcy had been tardy in appearing and had tackled him about returning to London. They quarreled.

Darcy then arrived and heard Bingley voice plans to visit Longbourn, ostensibly to given a report on Elizabeth, but really to see Jane which had brought up Bingley and Jane's situation.

"Charles, I don't think you ought to go," pressed Darcy.

"I have not seen her for days," throwing his napkin down, Mr. Bingley looked away from his friend.

"I think allowing time and distance between you would be efficacious," Mr. Darcy stared at his friend who was looking out the window.

"She must be pining away." Mr. Bingley looked from the rain back to Mr. Darcy.

"Charles I think that you, how do I put this delicately, are not as well attuned to others' sensibilities as you might suppose. While you have excellent manners, are an attentive host, and show the greatest care with your guests you do not understand others sensibilities and needs. Forgive me, but I fear you presume too much." He spoke carefully, speaking with a very even-toned voice.

"Darcy I have _five_ sisters, how can you say I do not know how to understand women?"

"We can grow up in a forest and not know how to chop wood unless given an axe and taught to practice Charles. Two men can have dissimilar experiences of life given the same exploits. A different man may have become an adroit reader of women in the same situation. I think perhaps with your cheerful disposition you have gone through life largely unaware of others feelings, forgive if I feel the need for plain speaking, but today is not the day to visit Miss Bennet. Besides, it is raining again."

Mr. Bingley was considerably irritated; he resented Darcy's speech. His afternoon was spent at war with taking offense at the plain words from his friends and perhaps giving some justice as to their truth. The war was better managed with a glass of brandy. Bingley had the firmest reliance on Darcy's regard and the highest opinion, normally, of his judgment, but found the words and the truth of them difficult to contemplate on a cold, rainy autumn day.

Kitty also joined them for supper and stayed with the Netherfield ladies since Elizabeth was sleeping. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had decided on a game of billiards, which they managed largely in silence. Kitty amused herself with a book to which Mr. Hurst found singular; especially since she did not wish to play cards and the ladies opted for piquet. Caroline inquired if she was a great reader.

"I have not been, but I am making up for some years of neglect. My father is a great reader but did not encourage us in the pursuit if we did not wish," answered Kitty.

"Were you not steeped in lessons by governess'?" Miss Bingley asked after playing a card trick.

"We had no governess," Kitty answered truthfully.

"How singular. We had one until we were sent to school in town," said Mrs. Hurst looking over and assessing Kitty as if she were under glass.

"Sometimes I fear my mother and father grew weary of our education as I am the fourth of five daughters and cannot say that we were at all well behaved. Jane was good, of course, but I fear we may have tried our poor mamma's nerves something frightfully."

"Our governess Miss Green kept us all in line for sure," said Miss Bingley, "from Amelia who is the oldest to me. We were not allowed to misbehave," she played another card trick, but had a small smile Kitty had never seen before as she spoke of her youth.

"I sometimes wish we had been encouraged more to pursue studies, like music. Only Lizzy and Mary learned to play the pianoforte and largely because they were interested," her face fell suddenly with mention of Mary.

"We have not met your sister Mary," asked Mrs. Hurst, looking over from her game.

"She passed away last year," Kitty whispered.

There were exclamations of regret and sorrow from the Netherfield ladies. Mr. Hurst was asleep on the sofa.

"We all miss her. Lizzy and I were discussing her today and wishing we had some way of remembering her beyond a memorial plaque in the church."

The ladies agreed it was a good idea but had no ideas for her. Katherine Bennet retired with many thoughts on what had been a full day.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next day Elizabeth had enough of being in bed despite what she had promised Mr. Jones. Well-wrapped against the chills she joined the Netherfield ladies in the morning parlor. A fire was laid for her and a warm rug placed on her knees. The Netherfield ladies had considerable skills at conversation. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humor and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit. Lizzy and Kitty listened to their tales with great amusement.

Darcy was having to admit that Elizabeth Bennet was becoming an object of an intense interest. Initially he had not thought highly of her, her friend, her family or anyone in Meryton. There was no one in Meryton on a level with him or his friends.

At first he had been amused by the pair of Miss Bennet and Miss Parks as they were never without the other. They were a diversion. But after his run-in with them in Old Park Woods, he had to acknowledge a certain captivation with both women. For one thing, neither seemed interested in him. He had spent too many years being judged by the measurement of his purse, and the size of his land holdings, and not that of his character, but neither woman paid him any attention whatsoever. Their absorbing exchange in the woods had led him to observe and listen in to their conversations in subsequent meetings. Darcy had figured out their secrets which had added to their charm.

Both women were captivating, the classically stunning Miss Parks—and who does not like to look at a pretty face—but Miss Bennet's dark features were enchanting and he began, playfully at first, to think of her as a woodland sprite, then ran into her in a setting that added to that impression.

It shocked his sense as he was not the type of man given to such imagings. He had lived eight and twenty years in the world and spent diverse years of his adult life admiring women; especially when he spent time with Charles Bingley who so frequently fell in love, there was often a discussion of beauty. Admiring Miss Parks and Miss Bennet became his amusement in Herfordshire in between the shooting and the parties, which helped to lessen the tedium of social engagements to which he could not look forward to with the same enthusiasm as Bingley.

Pondering the beautiful expression of her dark eyes got him through many an evening with banal entertainment, absurd conversation, and simpering company. She was, however, just an amusement for him; he did not feel in any danger until the morning of his quarrel with Charles. He had wanted to get Charles out of the house so they would not be overheard and had unconsciously led the pair of them to the grove. And on the way back to Netherfield, in the downpour when he had looked in Elizabeth's eyes, at her exquisite eyes with their fine lashes wet with rain, he thought he had not seen anything more beautiful in the world and realized his danger.

Darcy had had two days of a headache, and two days of heartache as he kept mostly to his rooms and to himself, and pondered what to do. He was not sure if he truly had a chest cold or was a love sick calf but finally mastered himself. The news that she was downstairs tested his resolve to think no more of her, and he was determined to only wish her well and then find an amusement to occupy his time for the rest of her stay at Netherfield.

Elizabeth sat in front of the fire constantly battling an errant curl. It seemed her hair had grown overnight as it sometimes appears to do—even if in reality it does not—and her ribbon did not seem to be able to tame the curls of her hair. She was pleased that it was finally of a length that it could be styled. She had not been sent any pins for her hair and had forgotten to ask Kitty for any that morning.

The gentlemen all joined them despite it not even being near mid-day. The two Netherfield sisters looked up in surprise.

"Really, Charles, Henry, have you nothing to do this morning," asked Mrs. Hurst, frowning at her brother and husband. They had come and seated themselves within the circle of ladies. Mr. Darcy had a small portable writing desk and went to sit in what seemed the farthest corner of the room, and began to compose a letter with only the barest of nods at the occupants.

"It is raining again Louisa, why may we not come sit with you? I fear too much time confined indoors is unhealthy for men; we need some society, and some variety of scene. We cannot spend another morning between the two or three of us, without coming to blows or bad temper," he voice sounded in a jolly mood as if glad for the change of company.

"Do you not think women feel the same way Mr. Bingley?" asked Elizabeth. "We do not always want to be indoors and confined to the same society."

"I had never considered that women like to vary their routine Miss Elizabeth or seek a change of company, I assumed that was a purview of men." He had a spot near her at the fire and had quite a buoyant set of his shoulders as he leaned towards her.

"But we do, as I sure your sisters will agree," Elizabeth looked at the ladies, but neither nodded. Miss Bingley might agree in private that she and Louisa quarreled if left to themselves too long, but chose not to say so with the gentlemen present.

"Well I can think of all the quarrels we have had Lizzy when the weather was bad and the day long," Kitty looked up from her book and smiled.

Elizabeth wondered if her cold had somehow improved her hearing, or if her hearing in the one ear was somehow compensating for the loss of the hearing in the other, but she felt as if conversations were becoming easier to follow.

"I am anxious for a change of scene, how many days of rain have we had now?" Queried Mr. Bingley with a comically dour look on his face.

"Four days, this is the fourth day of rain," said Mr. Hurst. They all seemed surprised to hear him speak and looked at his indolent sprawl on one of the sofas.

"If you were not confined indoors, what would you be doing? Have you not finished shooting Charles?" his sister asked.

"Visiting to be sure, we have not been around the neighborhood since the supper at the Gouldings. I understood that the Lucases had planned a supper party and your uncle," he turned to the two Bennet sisters and nodded, "was introduced to me and told me to stop by any time. I must say he seemed a capital fellow!"

"Your uncle, you have an uncle in the area Miss Bennet?" Mrs. Hurst inquired, looking up from her stitching.

"Yes, he lives in Meryton, Aunt Philips is my mother's sister," answered Lizzy, shifting the rug as she was quite warm.

"And what does he do for a living?" She pulled at a stitch and then looked from Elizabeth to her sister.

"He is an attorney." She felt the impertinence of the question, but let it go.

"Have you other family nearby?"

"No, but we have an uncle and aunt in town." She felt that she may as well offer up the information as that was where the conversation was headed.

"And is he a gentleman?" Her stitching lay in her lap, unregarded.

"He is in trade." She looked directly at the two ladies. Mrs. Hurst had a shy smile on her lips; Miss Bingley looked from her older sister to Katherine back to Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy looked over at this exchange, pondering a gentleman's daughter who had connections with someone in trade. His eyes were distracted, however, by the errant curl that rested on her forehead. He seemed unable to continue his line of thought and stared fixedly at the curl as if willing Elizabeth to brush it back. Kitty looked up from her book, watching his intense gaze, and finally, Elizabeth unconsciously swatted at the curl and Darcy was able to return to his letter.

"I appreciate all that you have done for me; and feel I shall be able to return home tomorrow. Kitty is to write a letter to our father to ask for the carriage. We are set to go to London soon, and I am anxious to return home that we may better plan for that trip." It was a half-truth since she had not spoken to her father yet, but she was feeling uncomfortable imposing on the Netherfield family.

"I hope you have enjoyed your stay here," said Miss Bingley, but looking at Kitty. Mr. Darcy looked up again at the news that she was leaving. Elizabeth looked over at him, but could not catch his eye as he looked down again at his letter. She contemplated his silence in the present company given how lively their exchanges had been previoiusly out of doors. She wondered if it was because Miss Parks was not present. The idea pained her.

"Are you going to London? Perhaps we will run into you there. We are going as well," Mr. Bingley almost interrupted his sister. "Caroline has been anxious to return to town and Louisa and Henry go there for Christmas, so we may, perhaps be able to enjoy the joys of town together."

"You have only been here a short while Mr. Bingley. Did you just come up for the shooting? I think the neighborhood would be sorry if you leave, though, as you did lease a manor house you can see fit to do with it as you like." She smiled at him, "It seems as if you are now in a hurry to return to town, as it has only been a month since you arrived." Elizabeth listened at first to his speech in wonder and felt a little irritated, for Jane's sake that he seemed to be ready to be back in town.

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry; I am often off in five minutes when I resolve to quit a place. When I am in the country, I never wish to leave it and when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either. I am so often content wherever I happen to be until I am then ready to leave, and then I am off in a hurry."

"It is kind of you to be going to town if it is Miss Bingley's wish, you are a considerate brother," stated Elizabeth. Miss Bingley looked shocked at this statement, and she glanced over at Mr. Darcy who looked equally as perplexed by the news that Bingley was now resolved to go to London after insisting on staying in Hertfordshire just so many days before.

They were interrupted by a servant who came to announce that a Captain Yelverton had come to call for Mr. Darcy. Darcy put away his letter writing things and went to meet the gentlemen privately.

Another servant came to call the rest of them for dinner and a message from Mr. Darcy indicated that they should not wait for him, so the six of them dined together.

Lizzy rested after dinner. Caroline invited Kitty to listen to her play the pianoforte and taught her when to turn the pages of her music. Mrs. Hurst joined them later and sang and Kitty pondered about learning to play and sing, even at the advanced age of seventeen.

Their final evening began quietly. Mr. Darcy seemed to still be working on his letter—and was steadfastly refusing to look in the direction of any of the ladies—and Elizabeth found that he had a younger sister, Georgiana, to whom this lengthy composition was addressed.

Miss Bingley complimented Mr. Darcy on his letter writing, though not because she had been the recipient of one of his letters, but because of the length of the letter and the amount of time he had spent that day in its creation. There was some discussion about letter writing with poor Bingley being abused by his sisters for his careless handwriting.

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them; by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents," cried he.

"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, "must disarm reproof."

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy looking up from his letter to his friend, "than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast."

"And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of modesty?" Asked Mr. Bingley.

"The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought. The power of doing anything with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you said this morning that you might resolve to be gone in five minutes should the idea strike you, you meant it as a compliment to yourself."

"Nay," cried Bingley, squirming a little, he might have also remembered his speech about coming to blows and bad tempers with Darcy, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. At least I did not assume the character of needless hast merely to show off before the ladies."

"I dare say you believe it Bingley."

"I assure you I would not pay half so much attention as to your opinions, Darcy, if you were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay you half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than you, Darcy, on particular occasions and in particular places; at your own house especially, when you have nothing to do."

Elizabeth looked on with amusement at the argument between the two friends. It was an insight to think that Darcy could be disagreeable or bored; she could not ponder such a situation.

"And Mr. Darcy, is he a boastful gentleman?" asked Elizabeth playfully. She caught Darcy's eye and found instead of his laughing eyes that his face was unreadable. She wondered again at the difference in character between the gentlemen she conversed with so easily when outside—when she was with her friend, Miss Parks—and this silent gentleman.

"The wisest and best of men may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke." His face betrayed nothing, and she could only take his words for their intended meaning.

"Certainly there are such people, but I hope that I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me; but these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without." She said it with more spirit than she intended, and a little more vehemence than usually marked their exchanges.

"It has been the study of my life to avoid such weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule," he replied stiffly.

"Such as vanity or pride."

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind—pride will always under good regulation. I make no pretension to be without fault. I hope I have not the fault of understanding. I cannot, however, vouch for my temper nor can I forgive offenses against myself. I may be, perhaps, called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

"Unbending resentment is a shade in a character, but it is certainly not a defect one can laugh at, you have chosen your fault well," she replied, surprised at her wit. Their dark eyes locked for a moment, but she could not read what was written there. His eyes strayed up to her hairline and she pulled the curl back before looking out the dark windows. He kept his gaze on the halo of curls for as long as he felt he could before returning to his letter. Kitty looked from her sister to Mr. Darcy before returning to her book.

"Do let us have some music," cried Miss Bingley, "Kitty, will you turn the pages for me?" And the conversation died as Mr. Darcy finished his letter while Elizabeth listened to the music, secretly watching his progress on his letter, and wondered at their exchange. If he was not at fault for understanding, was she at fault for understanding the degree of admiration between them and to really understand that his attentions and conversation were actually directed at Miss Parks?


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The carriage arrived. Elizabeth and Katherine were tucked inside with rugs on their laps despite the short journey. Mr. Bingley and his sister wished them well. Mr. Darcy had not returned from a morning walk, apparently, and missed saying goodbye.

"If our journeys to London coincide, perhaps we can offer you room in our carriage?" Mr. Bingley suggested. The Bennet sisters thanked him and the carriage drove off.

"Charles, you know the Hursts have no carriage, there be no room," glowered Miss Bingley at her brother as they stood on the steps and watched the Bennet carriage meander down the drive.

"Oh, but Darcy has his carriage, with two carriages, there would be room for all!" beamed Bingley with his buoyant smile. He spun around and reentered his house with blissful thoughts of London and Miss Jane Bennet.

They were welcomed home joyously by their family. Mrs. Bennet exclaimed over what she thought were Elizabeth's peaked color and gaunt cheeks and held her in a longer embrace than usual. Her embrace said more than her surfeit of words did.

Lizzy retired to her bed to rest. Her dozing was broken by Jane who peeked around the door at her, and seeing her open eyes, entered.

"I missed you Lizzy. I hope your stay at Netherfield Hall was pleasant. How did you get along with the ladies?" She stood at the end of the bed and looked down at Elizabeth under the bed clothes.

"Jane," she sat up, "My stay was pleasant; I thank you. I did miss you while I was away. I fear I have been so focused on myself lately that I have not talked with you much recently." She patted the bed next to her. "The autumn has been a busy time for all of us." Jane settled beside her.

"I find I cannot make out Miss Bingley," continued Elizabeth. "She is alternately rude and high-minded, and then she displays a patience and understanding for someone. Miss Bingley seemed to be quite sweet with Kitty during our stay. She entertained her, and I never heard her make a snide remark about Kitty the whole time. She was encouraging her to take up the piano."

"I always say there is good to be found in anyone," remarked Jane.

"And Kitty did seem to bloom a little under her guidance. Altogether, the stay was not unpleasant."

"It is good that you were both so welcome. How did it go with the other occupants of the house? How is Mrs. Hurst or the gentlemen?" she asked, leaning back against the pillow.

"Mrs. Hurst still thinks herself above us, that was plain. Both sisters did not think highly of our having an attorney for an uncle, or one who is in trade. Mr. Hurst seems to only care for cards, his supper, or to sleep. He spent most of his time on sofas, sleeping." She chuckled at the images of him on various sofas.

"Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy?" Prompted Jane.

"They are odd friends, to be sure. Mr. Bingley is so cheerful and Mr. Darcy seems dour, and says so little," replied Elizabeth, a little guardedly.

"But I understand from Papa that you met both men in the woods when you were caught in the rain. Was it Mr. Bingley who helped you in from the storm?" She turned a little to look at her sister.

"No, it was Mr. Darcy." She paused, and the length of the pause made Jane look intently at her. "We do talk, but it seems we can only talk if out of doors." And she related her adventure in the storm to Jane. "I believe Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were quarreling about something that morning as Mr. Bingley was not in his usual humor. I believe, Jane, that they were quarreling about you." And she looked directly at Jane and a slight cast came over the blue eyes.

"Why do you think they might have been quarreling about me?" Jane held her gaze.

"I do not know for sure Jane. But I do understand that Mr. Bingley admires you. Miss Parks and I have been so much together, and I have spent time feeling sorry for myself—and my poor hearing—that I have not paid attention to my family. Consequently, you and I have not had much time to talk about your feelings for Mr. Bingley."

Jane looked away from Elizabeth for many minutes, then back towards her again.

"I am not certain how I feel about Mr. Bingley any more. I explained this to Catherine, Kitty and Lydia while you were gone. While we do have so much in common, and he is an amiable and well-mannered gentleman; I found that he seems bewitched by some ideal version of a woman and has not taken the pains, or shown the signs that he will ever take the time to understand my thoughts and wishes." Small tears leaked from her eyes.

"It is odd that we can all live together and not, sometimes, be fully cognizant of what is going on around us." And Elizabeth felt at a loss for words of comfort for Jane, so she just held Jane. "You are goodness and sweetness and he does not deserve you!" she declared forcefully, all of sudden. "It makes me angry that he should not want to worship at your feet, Jane. I want to go storm the gates of Netherfield Hall and call him out."

Jane laughed. "You are being Saint George again, storming the cave to save the Princess. He is not a dragon, just, perhaps, a gentleman who needs to improve his manners around ladies, and learn how to treat them."

"Who deserve to be treated well."

Jane tucked Elizabeth in with a kiss and left. She felt like she was just falling asleep when her father knocked and entered.

"My dear," and he kissed her fondly on the top of her head. He pulled a chair over near her bed and sat down. "So we are going to London then?" His eyes twinkled.

Elizabeth explained her reasoning. How she had read the pamphlet about the education of the deaf, and that there was a school in London that had been recently founded based on those principles, for the deaf and dumb.

"Perhaps Mamma would not ask too many questions if we told her you were taking us to visit; at least she would be too embarrassed to tell the neighbors about it." Her eyes crinkled at Mr. Bennet as she smiled conspiratorially at her father.

Mr. Bennet said he thought it might do for an idea as any other and he would consider how to tell Mrs. Bennet.

"We may also see about dark eyeglasses for Miss Parks. She mentioned the other day about getting some," he stood up.

Elizabeth nodded but made no comment, and must have looked weary as he patted her hand and told her to rest.

Mrs. Bennet sent a tray up to Elizabeth for her mid-day meal. Catherine came to collect the tray.

"How are you feeling? How is your wrist?" Elizabeth replied that she was well, just tired. She was not sure that she wanted to talk to Catherine _tete-a-tete_ just yet. Unsure of her own feelings for Mr. Darcy, she did not want to hear if Catherine's were positive towards him.

"Did you enjoy your stay?" Elizabeth wondered if every family member was going to come in individually and ask the same questions. She replied in the affirmative but was looking out the window. What the weather was, however, she could not tell as her eyes were not focused.

"I want to visit Kent." Elizabeth looked up at her, her attention focused fully on her friend. She noticed that Catherine was sitting on the chair her father had vacated and was staring at her intently. "I was hoping that we might be able to plan a little trip. I have been saving the money my father gave me."

"Why do you want to visit Kent? That is where the sanitarium is." Elizabeth was a jumble of emotions at the idea of the trip.

"The thing is Lizzy, I miss Kent. I miss the people we met there, Dr. Markham and the staff. I thought perhaps that we could return to Priestwood Green to visit and also see what other sights that Kent has to offer." She tilted her head.

"Perhaps we can," and Elizabeth's face lit up with the idea of visits to Canterbury and Rochester Cathedral. "Perhaps we can go to the sea, see the white cliffs of Dover, or go to Ramsgate or Margate as well." The idea was beginning to take hold. She stifled a yawn, however, and Catherine noticed and stood up.

"We have plenty of time to think about the details. Your father said we were to go to London soon and that your uncle and aunt were to visit for Christmas. A visit to Kent may need to wait until the spring."

Guests were expected for supper. Elizabeth was not sure whether to join them; her day of rest was not going as planned. Mr. Jones came up to check on her, and changed the bandages on her splint, pronouncing her to be healing well. Lydia sprinted in after Mr. Jones left to pick out a dress for Elizabeth. She was most insistent that Elizabeth meet Mr. Worthing. Lizzy insisted that she _had_ met him, the night of the Philips' party.

"Oh, but you really need to know him better. He is _quite_ the gentleman Lizzy! I am determined to only have a military man for a husband."

"You are too young to be thinking of husbands Lydia," declared Elizabeth as she watched Lydia hold up various gowns.

"I mean to have my fun first, of course. But being an officer's wife means I shall always have good society even after I am wed," she twirled with a gown clasped to her. "I think this one Lizzy; I like this new print muslin gown that you had made. You shall stand out from all the simpering misses in their plain white gowns. I wish Mamma would let me wear something so bold!"

She heard, when making her way tentatively downstairs to await their guests, that Mr. Worthing and other officers had been frequent visitors while she had been away but that Mr. Worthing was a well-discussed favorite of Lydia and Mrs. Bennet.

Captain Yelverton had called for afternoon tea the previous day and been very gallant with his stories again. There was some talk as to whether he admired Jane or Miss Parks more, but neither lady in question had anything to say about how they felt about the gentleman in question.

The evening was a lively one and the society was well put-together. Mrs. Bennet could only triumph that the news in Meryton on the morrow would be positive when people spoke about the Bennet supper. Elizabeth and Miss Parks sat together most of the evening. Elizabeth because she was tired; Catherine because she was feeling overwhelmed with the society of men in red coats. Catherine's mind was also on the town of Addington in Kent and on dreams of a trip.

They were interrupted by a gentle cough. Mr. Worthing had broken away from the persistent Lydia and stood before them.

"May I sit down?" The ladies nodded and he pulled forward a chair to station himself close to them.

"Are you well Miss Elizabeth? How was your stay at Netherfield?" he inquired politely. She blew out a breath before replying that she was well and that her stay had been a pleasant one.

He commented on the weather, and the downturn it had recently made. "I fear this will hamper your getting out of doors, Miss Elizabeth. You are quite the walker as I recall. Was that not how you got caught in the rain?"

"Yes it was, Mr. Worthing, in fact I was headed to the Old Park Woods again," she replied.

"It is a good thing that Mr. Bingley was able to rescue you," he commented, raising his eyebrows.

"It was not Mr. Bingley who helped her, but Mr. Darcy," Miss Parks remarked wishing she could better see his face. Again she could hear a small, quick intake of breath.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy helped you from the storm? That seems a bit out of character for him to do that." He looked intently at Elizabeth, waiting for a reply.

"How would you know what actions are, or are not, in his character to do Mr. Worthing; I thought you did not know him? Have you been introduced yet?"

"I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Darcy yet, since moving to Meryton," he answered shifting in his chair. "I was only considering what I have heard reported about him since I came. He does not seem someone inclined to socialize much outside of his circle." His explanation did not appear to have much weight, but as Elizabeth was tired, felt that she did not wish to pursue his faulty logic.

"I can tell you something of a certain gentlemen we _have_ been introduced to," and he leaned forward with his eyes open and his smile wide on his face. Elizabeth could not but help leaning in towards him to listen. It seemed impossible to not respond to such an invitation when he smiled like that.

"I was taking a constitutional one morning, a day or two ago—in between rain showers, you know—when I happened to walk by Mr. Brunton's house. The two men who live there were just returning from a similar exercise from the other direction. I could not help but overhear their conversation; it was a public street." He paused to admire the effect he had as both ladies listened to his tale. They were both most attentive.

"Mr. Cauldwell was saying to Mr. Brunton about 'not wanting to maintain the deception,' and he also mentioned that he needs to find a living soon, or at least a source of income." He leaned back to watch their reactions.

"Whatever can it mean? We know that Mr. Cauldwell is looking for patron, but it appears that his finances are in more dire circumstances than he lets on or that anyone has thought. But if what you overheard is true, what can it be that the two of them are being deceptive about?" Exclaimed Elizabeth with great curiosity.

"Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken. We all deceive in small ways, let us not be looking to think that a respectable neighbor like Mr. Brunton or a clergyman like Mr. Cauldwell are being deceptive about some large matter that we need concern ourselves about," counseled Miss Parks. She narrowed her eyes and tried hard to make out Mr. Worthing's features and expressions and for once, felt that her disability was a disadvantage.

She was beginning to think he was not a man to be trusted. His visits to Longbourn recently, since Elizabeth had been away, had been full of flattery and empty promises to Lydia and Mrs. Bennet. Their delight in him was paramount, and Lydia, in particular, could not talk enough about his handsome face or the strength and width of his shoulders. Not being able to partake in his beauty, she listened to his voice, and found it banal, with words and phrases too much over-used and studied. Quite like Mr. Cauldwell and his over-studied flattery of Jane that day. As if they both had consulted a book on the flattery of ladies. With Mr. Worthing, his handsome face and honeyed voice took him much further than the pompous tone of Mr. Cauldwell, but it was still a forced flattery that was not sincere. But to what end was Mr. Worthing pursuing the society of the Bennet family? It was a question she could not immediately answer.

Mrs. Bennet allowed no walks the following day. She insisted that Elizabeth stay indoors as the long-awaited Lucas dinner was to be held. The weather broke, and there were blue skies above with only a few scattered clouds, but Elizabeth obeyed. Kitty joined her while she was practicing the pianoforte. Lizzy feared she was going to want to talk about their time at Netherfield, having so thoroughly recounted her stay with all her other family members, instead, her sister joined her at the keyboard and she gave her a lesson. Kitty was an eager student and they spent the larger part of the afternoon in playing.

It was a very large party. The Lucas' were not one to limit their acquaintance. Jane Bennet had discussed with Elizabeth, Catherine and Kitty the possibility of staying home as she was unsure of meeting Mr. Bingley. Her sisters and friend assured her that they would not let him cosset her away; Kitty in fact volunteered to be her chaperone, so Jane planned to attend.

The delight of Mr. Bingley at seeing Jane Bennet's pretty face was written on his face. He said his courtesies to his host and hostess and then hastened across the room to where she was talking to Miss Goulding, the Harrington sisters, the Lucas sisters and Kitty. He was unsuccessful at getting her to agree to a walk about the room; found she was not in need of refreshment, nor did she find her seat on the sofa between Amy Goulding and Kitty was too cold and that she needed to move closer to the fire. He could only pull up a chair and join in the general conversation of the ladies.

Elizabeth and Catherine found a comfortable conversation with Colonel Forster. Mr. Darcy approached and she looked up, and smiled, inviting him to join them. He frowned, turned and walked away, Colonel Forster continued talking, not having noticed the gentleman. Elizabeth squeezed her friend's hand, but said nothing until later.

"Mr. Darcy approached our little party, but he refused to join us. Why do you suppose he is so haughty and proud at social engagements, and so pleasant when we happen across him outdoors Catherine?" She risked hearing what her friend may say about Mr. Darcy as Jane was still engaged within her circle of friends.

"I still have not been able to figure out Mr. Darcy. How long of an acquaintance shall we need to understand the gentleman, I am not sure Elizabeth. We can begin with the facts: he does observe your behavior quite often." They were holding hands and she felt Elizabeth stiffen.

"Are you sure it is not _us_ he is observing?" Countered Elizabeth.

"That is a good point. We know that he is often silent when in society, but that he can converse quite easily in other situations—I would not say that our meeting in Stevenage was typically 'out of doors'—so let us just say that he is not always silent and indifferent," Catherine continued their examination of Mr. Darcy.

"True," agreed Elizabeth.

"We also know that he a caring and considerate man. Consider how well he took care of you in the storm. Consider what a good friend he is to Mr. Bingley, even though they appear to be of dissimilar temperaments."

"True again." She was feeling uneasy at Catherine's line and her insight into Mr. Darcy's character, and feeling that perhaps she ought not to have brought it up.

"Perhaps you need to talk to Mr. Darcy more. Ask him his opinion as to why he is observing us?" Concluded Catherine, squeezing Lizzy's hand.

"I am not sure if I can be that direct, but perhaps I may ask him how well I express myself the next time I find that he is observing the two of us, least I grow too afraid of him."

There were calls for performances. Amy Goulding played and sang. Mr. Wilding turned the pages for her. Miss Bingley was appealed to, but she declined. Elizabeth was appealed to, and she convinced Miss Parks to sing while she played. Mr. Darcy made his way slowly across the room. He had meant to ignore Elizabeth Bennet since she had given him that smile at the beginning of the evening. He was heedless of walking in front of anyone as he approached the pianoforte where her passion and enjoyment at playing were evident on her face while Catherine Parks sang. There was an appeal to her playing, though the performance was not as excellent as some of the other performers, that had moved his feet until he was standing next to the duo when they finished.

She looked up in surprise, "have you come all this way in order to frighten me Mr. Darcy?"

"I assure you madam, I have not," he was startled form his reverie. "I beg your pardon; I only meant to compliment you on your performance, and on your singing," he bestowed a cheery-eyed smile on Miss Parks, then turned and walked away.

Elizabeth was left unsure how she felt about the exchange. Had the compliment been for her or Miss Parks or for both of them? She had to admit to the feelings of jealousy that crept in to her chest. She helped Miss Parks navigate to where Jane was sitting. Kitty was stalwart in her attendance, and only Penelope Harrington and a sleepy Susan Lucas remained as Mr. Bingley continued his attentions to Miss Bennet. Elizabeth sought refreshment and came to no conclusions as to the nature of Mr. Darcy's character.

Mrs. Bennet tittered in delight as they were leaving. Mr. Bingley approached Mr. Bennet to ask if he could be of use, with his carriage, in taking Mr. Bennet and his family to London. Mr. Bennet replied in the affirmative, stating that there were only three of them going and that they should not take up too much room. Mrs. Bennet, who had been unsure of Mr. Bingley and Jane, looked on Mr. Bingley again with renewed interest, easily switching thoughts from red coats and regiments to manor houses and fine carriages.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The day arrived, and the Bingley and Darcy carriages were in good time at Longbourn. The whole Bennet family was assembled in the entrance hall to say goodbye as the Netherfield party entered in their traveling coats and capes, bonnets and hats.

"Mr. Bennet, I thought you might ride in my carriage," bowed Mr. Bingley to the master of the house. He looked over to see Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Parks in their long coats and bonnets. Jane Bennet was behind Kitty on the stairs in a bright yellow dress. His eyes were drawn up to her.

"But Miss Bennet, you are not ready!" He said perplexed.

"I am not going to London, Mr. Bingley. It is only my father, Elizabeth and Miss Parks who have business to attend to with my uncle on this trip." And she smiled down at him shyly.

Bingley was rooted to the spot and did not know what to say or do. When Mr. Bennet had said there were only three of them going, he had assumed it was the two eldest daughters and their father. He had spent the last few days delighting in all the marvelous places he could take Miss Bingley and her sister to during their short stay in town. "You are not going?" He wobbled on his feet and had to correct his balance by stepping forward awkwardly.

Mr. Darcy looked at his friend and understood. He managed to escort the Bennets to the carriages; and the Netherfield party and Bennet party were distributed amongst the two carriages. Servants finished attaching trunks to the back of carriages and they settled in for the half day trip to town. Who rode in what carriage was largely a given thing; the two sets of ladies would wish to be together; Mr. Bingley had already invited Mr. Bennet into his carriage and there needed to be some distribution of gentlemen and ladies. Mr. Darcy also felt that subjecting Miss Elizabeth, sister to Miss Jane Bennet, to Mr. Bingley's scrutiny would not be wise.

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet rode with the Netherfield ladies. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hurst were to entertain the Longbourn ladies. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth had figured that they would share a carriage ride together; both had assumed they would be guests in Mr. Bingley's carriage. Elizabeth felt that she would have liked to have prepared for a half-day's worth of conversation with Mr. Darcy in an enclosed space.

The ride began in silence and Mr. Hurst quickly fell asleep. Elizabeth watched the scenery outside as they passed from areas of familiarity to pastures, hedgerows and villages that she did not know.

Miss Parks broke the silence. "Perhaps you can describe the scenery to me, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth looked over at Catherine sitting up straight in her corner of the carriage.

"I am not sure if I can do it justice, Catherine, I am not a poet and feel that nature's splendors require descriptions I can ill depict." Elizabeth was in a taciturn mood. She turned from her friend back to the scenery again and was silent.

"Do you have a house in town, Mr. Darcy?" asked Catherine, determined to have some conversation. Elizabeth looked away from the window and realized that Catherine was determined to get Darcy to talk. She worried it might be along the lines of what they had discussed at the party.

"Yes I do, though I have been little in town these days," he answered. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere as he too had been looking out the carriage window until recalled to its interior and the occupants.

"Do you enjoy your time in town, when you are there?" Catherine flashed her most flattering smile, using her charm to entice him to talk. Once in a while she could use her beauty to her advantage and she knew she could not abide a half-day's carriage ride in silence.

"Yes I do; I have a number of acquaintances and can never want for society while I am there." It was a very short answer, and his voice and face did not reveal much. "Do you, Miss Parks, enjoy being in town?" He relaxed a bit as he looked at her dark eyes staring in his direction, though not really seeing him.

"I had a season in town, and was presented at court, but cannot say that I enjoy town. I grew up in Somerset, and my family is currently residing in Bath; I fear I enjoy smaller settings with less fuss, and where society moves at a slower pace." She looked at him as best she could. Elizabeth looked from one to the other wondering at the extent of their attraction as the conversation had begun to flow easily.

"Miss Bennet, I believe you have not been to town?" Elizabeth started and looked at him, having to think about the question.

"Oh no, well, yes I have been, frequently." He looked quite surprised at this information, "my uncle and aunt have been delightful hosts and my sisters and I are often invited to stay. I actually enjoy London, though there are limits to the sort of exercise a lady may seek out while there."

"And have you traveled outside of Hertfordshire? You cannot have always been at Longbourn?" He leaned closer to her, displaying a small eagerness at her answer.

"My uncle and aunt have been kind and taken me to Brighton, and to Bath and I have been to Exeter with my family."

He was surprised that a man of trade should be able to seek the discovery and illumination that comes with travel. He sank back against the upholstery and looked between the two ladies.

"What are your plans for this trip?" It was a question Elizabeth was not quite sure she wanted to answer. How did she tell Mr. Darcy about going to visit the _The Asylum for the Support and Education of the Deaf and Dumb Children of the Poor_? She paused while she considered answering. He watched her face as she processed her thoughts.

"I am looking to obtain spectacles for my eyes," Miss Parks mentioned. They both looked at her.

"Do you need eyeglasses?" He had to wonder at lady who admitted to needing them for her eyesight, though they were becoming something of a fashion accessory.

"Yes, when I was ill, last year, it affected my vision. I am seeing if they are able to fit me with eyeglasses that will help me with my vision, and perhaps, tinted spectacles that shield my eyes from the sun," she said it with conviction.

Elizabeth clasped Catherine's hand and squeezed it for being so brave. Elizabeth was not feeling brave.

"Elizabeth, do you want to discuss your visit?" Catherine prompted. Darcy turned to stare at Elizabeth. She felt herself blush slightly under his scrutiny in the carriage and looked from him to Mr. Hurst who was still sprawled next to him, asleep. Elizabeth glanced at her friend with her brows knit. She wished now that they were examining Mr. Darcy on his motives for always observing them and not examining Elizabeth and her motives for going to London.

"Papa has some estate business, and I have come to support him about that," she began, "and while we are in town, I want to visit a special school for the deaf and dumb." She looked over at Mr. Darcy, never having admitted it to someone besides her father or Catherine.

Mr. Darcy was surprised by her disclosure. He had begun the journey in silence, attempting to look out the window, but actually sneaking glances at Elizabeth when she was looking elsewhere; after all, Miss Parks could not see him, Mr. Hurst was asleep, and Miss Bennet was principally looking out of her own window. He had then delighted in the easiness that he found in conversing with both, and admiring both pairs of dark eyes, though it also gave him leave to admire Miss Bennet openly.

"What is the name of this school?" It was the only question he could think to ask, not expecting to have heard of the school. Most women of his acquaintance were concerned with lace and finery, covering screens, a few in learning languages, not in a school for deaf children.

"_The Asylum for the Support and Education of the Deaf and Dumb Children of the Poor_, it is located in Bermondsey so it is near my uncle's residence." She looked down at her hands, then over at Catherine.

"When do you plan to visit?"

"My uncle is arranging the details for us, but I believe we are to go in four or five days' time after we arrive."

"I should like to visit as well, if I may?" She looked up. They stared at each other across the carriage in astonishment with each other. It did not seem in character for so lofty a man like Mr. Darcy to request such a thing. Darcy was surprised at his impulsiveness and felt that his resolve to not regard Miss Elizabeth Bennet as much as was possible was failing. The move to London had not been a welcome one and he was feeling that distance from Elizabeth Bennet was equally as efficacious for him as distance from Jane Bennet was from Charles Bingley. He had not planned to call on her while she was in London.

"Yes, I can have my uncle or my father send you details."

Mr. Hurst woke up with a start as they bounced over a large pot-hole. Their conversation turned to discussions about places to visit in London before they stopped for a meal at an inn.

The carriage arrived in Gracechurch street in the early-part of the afternoon. Servants hauled in trunks while Elizabeth was embraced by Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Parks was introduced in person, though known by to them by letter. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hurst were introduced to Elizabeth's uncle and aunt. Mr. Darcy was surprised by the elegant Mrs. Gardiner—in contrast to the sometimes vulgar Mrs. Philips—who was a woman of intelligence, taste and good manners

The gentlemen were offered refreshment, but Mr. Hurst grumbled about wishing to be in his own apartments and they departed quickly. Mr. Bingley's carriage was slower, and the ladies had washed and refreshed themselves, and were enjoying tea with Mrs. Gardiner and the children when Mr. Bennet was deposited with his trunk. He acknowledged that he had slept part of the ride, and read a great deal more.

Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as by education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips was a great favorite with her Longbourn nieces.

The family dinner was wondrously pleasant. There was news to catch up on, and Miss Parks, though not related to anyone by blood, was enfolded in the arms of the Gardiners as if she had been a part of it for years. Mrs. Gardiner had worried about Elizabeth when the scarlet fever had hit, perhaps more so than anyone else except Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth's slow recovery had caused her a great deal of anguish, and Mrs. Gardiner had missed her at the previous Christmas, so was pleased to see her now.

Mrs. Gardiner could see that Elizabeth was not the same young lady. Before, Elizabeth had been witty, intelligent, but impetuous, and sometimes rash in her judgments of others and with a sharp tongue. She was quieter and less apt to share her thoughts now, but also more willing to listen when others spoke. And it was not because she needed to focus to hear conversations, her interactions in exchanges with others was more deliberate and unhurried. Elizabeth listened to words, but also seemed to be striving to understand people's desires without making pronouncements.

Mr. Darcy called on Mr. Bingley after supper. He found a morose gentleman. His sister was dining out and he had dined at home alone.

"She did not come, Darcy! I was a fool, how could I have been so mistaken about Miss Bennet coming to London? I changed all my plans just for her," he cried as Darcy entered.

"Well, do we discuss this reasonably or do you want to spend the next month wailing about your love for Miss Bennet?" He inquired taking a seat.

"You never understand," he retorted, yet passed Darcy a drink.

"And you never listen when it comes to your 'angels,' Charles. I suggest you consider listening one day," he toasted his friend, silently wishing for the day that Charles Bingley would realize that all women were not alike.

"It is different this time!"

"It is always different Charles and we never get anywhere, but perhaps in a week or so we might talk about this more reasonably," and he stayed with his friend, ensuring that his gloom did not get the better of him.

The ladies' first day in London was full of shopping, walks in great green parks and a small supper party with a few friends of the Gardiners. Presents had to be obtained for the family back home, especially Lydia who had requested a number of items.

The second day, Mr. Bennet had his meeting with the attorney—from a firm _Quine and Dunton_—who handled estate matters. Elizabeth could not go with him, and he was gone several hours. She found it difficult to concentrate on playing with her young cousins who always delighted in her visits. When he returned, it was dinner time, and her impatience was tried sitting through the meal making conversation on light topics while she wished to understand what he had found out. At last she was ensconced with her father. Miss Parks was sitting with Aunt Gardiner and whatever children were not napping.

"Tell me everything Papa, has he figured out how to break the entail?" She eagerly awaited his news.

"Well my dear, Mr. Dunton believes we may be able to create what is called a 'legal fiction' to challenge the way the entail works. This may then make Jane or you or your sisters the inheritors instead of its being entailed to a male relation."

"I need to tell you a little about estate law. Longbourn used to be governed by what is called a 'fee tail' that was created by a grant of a deed that only specified 'heirs of the body,' as successors of the property, it did not specify the sex of those heirs, mind you. Would that it were owned outright—that is a 'fee simple'—and I could do with the estate as I see fit." He settled back in his chair.

"Property law language is so strange, Papa, 'fee tail,' and 'fee simple'!" Exclaimed Elizabeth.

"Yes, leftovers from feudal times I believe, but as you know, your great grandfather saw fit to amend the entail, and your grandfather agreed to it—which he needed to do—and modified the entail to specify that only _male_ heirs could inherit. It is still a 'fee tail' and I only have a life interest in Longbourn, it is always held for the next heir, but right now it must be a _male_ heir." He was frowning at his poorly-sighted ancestors.

"Go on Papa, they cut off your Aunt Prudence."

"Yes, and that is what Mr. Dunton thinks may be a way of challenging the amendment to the entail. We discussed at length whether we try to challenge the entail in the first place and attempt to change it from a 'fee tail,' _entailed property_ to a 'fee simple,' _property that is owned outright_. In order to do that, it would take a lot of money—more than I have—and we need an Act of Parliament to do so, and, I would need a spokesman in the House of Lords. Besides which, since the Crown had granted the property in the first place, the Crown may see fit to just take back the property—a chance I do not wish to risk." He was very grave at the thought.

"That would be a terrible way to lose Longbourn, after a lengthy and costly fight." Longbourn was the only home she had ever known, even though she had always understood it was intended to pass to another, and not to Jane or split amongst herself and her sisters.

"Mr. Dunton believes we may be able to challenge the entail because the only male heir in the family is the son of Aunt Prudence. As you know, we have not be a fecund family and there has largely been a linear decent since Longbourn estate was established. There are no other male heirs—that is an important point. So in essence, even though great grandpa did not want Prudence to inherit, nor, by extension it is assumed, her heirs to inherit, her son is to be master of Longbourn one day. What we are doing is challenging the entail based on a 'legal fiction' that the wishes of your great grandfather are not being met and that the entail should revert to its original granted state." He blew out a deep breath.

"And if _that_ does not work, is there any other way to challenge the entail or to amend it?" She asked eagerly.

"In order to amend the entail in any other way, we would need the heir presumptive to agree to the amendment. So if I wanted to amend it back to 'heirs of my body,' so that my own children could inherit, I would need my cousin's consent to that. And I doubt he would, as that would then cut him out of Longbourn. And what man would walk away from an income of two thousand pounds a year?" Mr. Bennet had a bemused smile on his face.

"What is his name? I do not recall the family name," Elizabeth asked as she pondered all of the information Mr. Bennet had imparted.

"Collins. Mr. William Collins."

"Have you ever met him?"

"Not as an adult, no. I found his father to be an over-bearing, bad-tempered man and always felt heartily sorry for my aunt to have married such a man. I have not heard word of the family in perhaps twenty years, since Williams Collins the younger was just a young boy: he is named for his father as I recall. Mr. Dunton said he would make a few inquiries as to his whereabouts as he works on our issue."

_A/N: I will be traveling next week so will not likely update again until the end of the week._


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Miss Parks was fitted for a pair of eyeglasses the next morning. They were a beautiful pair of ground lenses that helped her now to see a few feet and attached to a golden lorgnette frame which she could hang around her neck as there was a loop at the end for a ribbon. The lorgnette frame was "all the rage," she was assured, as far as fashion. The optician also fitted her with a pair of tinted spectacles that she could wear over her ears. The glass was tinted a beautiful blue-green and the spectacles had hinged sides, which allowed them to folded when not in use, a handy option, he assured her. Afterwards, their day was one of shopping with Mrs. Gardiner and a wondrous evening at the theater.

When in bed, even after such a long day, Elizabeth contemplated all that had occurred so far, and was to occur, in London. They had called on Miss Bingley that morning, but she had not been at home; she wondered if Miss Bingley would receive them now that she was amongst her friends and the people of rank that she so valued. Elizabeth pondered whether Miss Bingley would return the call. She tugged at her sheets. Yet, she had been so sweet to Kitty. Perhaps Elizabeth needed to adopt Jane's attitude and to begin to forgive the idiosyncrasies of people and attempt to only see the good, because she could see good in Miss Bingley, in her kindness to Kitty, even when viewed alongside her pursuit of the company of people of fashion.

Thoughts of Miss Bingley made her think then of Jane and Mr. Bingley and she reached up to tug at her night cap. Bingley was not so easily forgiven because he had hurt Jane, in Elizabeth's estimation. While she was less willing to confront Mr. Darcy on his apparent observations about herself and Miss Parks, she felt quite ready to confront Mr. Bingley on his treatment of Jane, and for even causing Jane to shed one tear.

Elizabeth turned over in bed again as she was considering her sister. Her thoughts moved also to Mr. Darcy and she let out a sigh.

Miss Parks turned to Elizabeth. "What is keeping you awake my dear?" She did not sound sleepy.

"I am thinking of Jane and Mr. Bingley, and of Mr. Darcy," she answered, turning towards her friend.

"Why are they intruding on your thoughts and keeping you awake at this hour?"

"I am considering Mr. Bingley's attachment to Jane and attempting, but finding I am not able to discern how sincere their attachment is to each other. Jane and I discussed it, and she said he does not value her, in her opinion, as a real person. But Jane has not been quite herself these past few days before we left. I wonder if she isn't a little in love with Mr. Bingley. She does have a romantic side, and does feel strongly about sudden attachments."

"Yes I know, she mentioned to me that she was not certain how Mr. Bingley esteemed her; I figured it would not make her so unhappy if she did not care for him as well. The head can tell us one thing, yet the heart can say another."

"Is there anything to be done for her do you think? I cannot see that there is a way to make Mr. Bingley grow up in his regards for her," Elizabeth felt helpless when she had no clear idea of what action to take. It was like taking that bath with the splint on, and she wrestled with herself to acknowledge that sometimes there was no solution she was able to manifest and act upon.

"I think time is what she and Mr. Bingley need now. He needs to change how he approaches her; he needs to understand how to esteem her. Perhaps that is something Mr. Darcy can help him with."

They settled down in bed, but sleep did not come.

"Why is Mr. Darcy on your mind?" Catherine asked, turning her head.

Elizabeth lay still for many minutes. She was pleased the only light was a faint strip of moonlight peeking in between the curtains.

"I cannot fully make out his character; he can be sullen and haughty, but there is something to admire about him, Catherine. Mr. Darcy is a kind, and estimable friend to Mr. Bingley, and he was certainly my savior in the rain storm," that was about all she was willing to admit to her friend in one go.

"Mr. Darcy is certainly a respectable gentleman, think of him in comparison to Mr. Worthing," her tone of voice turned as they changed subjects.

"You still maintain that there is something false about Mr. Worthing?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Yes, I heard from Captain Denny that he was a lieutenant in the regulars, but that he has just an ensign post in the militia. I cannot but wonder at a man who resigns his commission from the regulars for a lower position in the militia. Such a turn of events does not sit well in my book, Elizabeth."

"That is concerning, more so than his rumors of Mr. Cauldwell's words about deceptions between him and Mr. Brunton."

"It appears that Colonel Forster knows about Mr. Worthing's former rank, since his captain, Mr. Denny knows of it. So I hope that if he is not an honorable man, then the Colonel will let the people of Meryton know. There is something too wily about Mr. Worthing; his words for your mother and sister have concerned me of late."

"Do you think he admires Lydia?"

"I cannot see any sign that he does; he does not show her any particular regard. It has only been that since your going to Netherfield, he has shown your _mother_ particular regard and thus obtained a lot of encouragement and invitations from her to visit Longbourn. I cannot fathom why he should do so. As regards Lydia, I think he, as a soldier, has probably seen more of the world, and has an even older man's view of the world; I cannot say that he would esteem the opinions of a fifteen year old girl."

"It is interesting to recount his actions when he is not before us, and when I am not speaking to him, as I can see your points with clarity. I find I get muddled by his smile and his charm. I feel mortified that I have been potentially deceived by a simple smile and a dimpled chin!" exclaimed Elizabeth with great feeling.

"We do not know that he is necessarily a bad man; I just feel there is something false about him and that we should be on our guard."

"Catherine," she was feeling brave in the darkened room, and with the openness of the conversation, "do you suppose that Mr. Darcy admires one of us?"

"I think he does, Elizabeth, I think he admires you," Catherine answered with conviction.

"How do you know?" She pulled herself up on one elbow, but she could not see Catherine any better for it.

"I am convinced Lizzy, because of observation, in my own way. I hear a lot that people miss, but I can still see people interacting with each other. People discount my eyesight far too much. And if I had any doubts, they flew away with the looks, and a few sighs, he gave you in the carriage ride when he considered no one was observing him."

Lizzy sank back into the bed. "He shows his estimation in a very different manner than Mr. Bingley to only be sitting near me and overhearing my conversation when we are in wider company."

"He does indeed."

"Do you suppose he will do more than admire me from afar?" Elizabeth settled into her pillow.

"Suppose you ask him."

"Oh, what a question to ask a gentleman!" And she giggled. "Though he did invite himself on the school tour tomorrow, is he coming to see me, or is he coming to see the school? Teasing, teasing man!"

"That I do not know. He is perhaps, interested in establishing a school on his estate," she paused, "but I think that he is coming to see you Elizabeth." They were both quiet for many minutes.

"I always thought that he was the one who sent you the walking stick, Catherine."

"I think he did send it to me, but I believe he was either being very kind, as he is a kind man, or he did it as a favor to you since I am your good friend. He is a very generous man, Lizzy, either way."

"Do you admire him Catherine?"

"He is an estimable gentleman, but I am not in love with him."

"Are you in love with someone else?" and she gasped at the idea, as Elizabeth had not thought of Miss Parks as being in love. It was a subject that Miss Parks was not willing to disclose. They had always talked of Elizabeth, and her thoughts and feelings; to have the tide turn to discuss Catherine's wishes left her feeling vulnerable for desires that were largely unobtainable. Catherine lay still for many minutes before she truthfully answered. It was, after all, a night of disclosures.

"Yes. I have admired Dr. Markham since my first days at Priestwood Green."

"Catherine! I never suspected," again Elizabeth pulled herself up onto her elbow, but there was still no light in the room.

"He has always been so kind, but I felt joy and esteem in his presence, and had the confidence that I could recover quickly almost as soon as I met Dr. Markham. He has the most wonderful voice, very deep, did you ever notice? And he always told me how beautiful I was, even with a bald head. It is one of the few times that I have felt a gentleman to be truly sincere in his compliments. I just don't know if it is something he says to all of his patients."

"He never told me that," said Elizabeth. Catherine was silent as she digested that news. "We can also ask Miss Goulding if you want more confirmation."

"I do not believe she may be Miss Goulding much longer," she deflected more talk from discussions of Dr. Markham.

"To whom does she owe her affection?"

"Have you not observed Mr. Wilding's attentions?"

"I have been so focused on feeling sorry for myself, and then on the entail business, and then on Jane, that I have not been paying much attention to what has been going on in society."

There was much to keep them awake, but they eventually did sleep.

Mr. Bennet visited Mr. Dunton again, but there was not much more information to be had from him. Mr. Dunton said it would take some time for his investigations about Mr. Collins to occur as well as to work on their case. It would be expected to take some months' time, and he would send notifications to Mr. Bennet at Longbourn.

There were just a few facts to impart, that William Collins the younger was five and twenty. His mother, Aunt Prudence Collins nee Bennet, had passed away sixteen years previously. William Collins the senior had lived until his son entered Oxford, passing away about a month before he went away. Where he resided currently was still not known, as he appeared to have had few friends to keep track of him.

Darcy was struggling with himself. There was a tenderness with which he found himself considering Elizabeth Bennet that could not be repressed. The image of her dark eyes, and the eyelashes wet with rain haunted him at the most inopportune times. His time in London could not be accounted for beyond trips to cheer up his friend or time attempting to not brood over Miss Bennet.

He began to consider what was due to his family, his connections, as a means of throwing off his affection for her. Her family was inferior—though her father was a gentleman—her uncle was a man of trade—his was an Earl. He had an uncle who was a judge; she had one who was a simple country attorney. Her mother, and her mother's sister, were without sense and propriety. The non-stop chatter of Mrs. Bennet might drive one to be quite uncivil. Miss Jane Bennet, and even Miss Katherine Bennet, were honorable women, but her younger sister had a wild nature that jarred him whenever he was in company with her.

A connection with such a family would be insupportable; he had to consider what was due to Georgiana. Georgiana needed a sister who could properly guide her in society, particularly after her misfortune. She needed a steady, valuable companion, who knew the ways of society and could shield Georgiana when needed. What would his Aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh say to such a niece? That was a question easy enough to answer; she would be mortified by such a choice. Darcy faltered when he considered his favorite cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Battle had affected his outlook and Colonel Fitzwilliam had a different one now in matters of affection. Before his campaign in Egypt, he had grumbled loudly about the pay for any rank in the Army not being of a sufficient amount to live on, and that being a younger son he was always destined to marry a woman of great wealth least he be destitute—or at least not live in the style with which he had grown up. Since his return to England, Colonel Fitzwilliam talked more of the value of love and respect in a marriage, and never more mentioned money or rank.

Darcy wondered at the consideration of this school visit. Mr. Bennet had sent him the school information and an invitation, and Mr. Darcy had responded with an invitation for the use of his carriage, a step that had not been essentially necessary. He could have met Miss Bennet and her family at The Asylum. There always seemed to be a part of him making decisions that countered the decisions of the rational part of him.

Mr. Darcy's carriage collected Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth, Catherine Parks, and Mrs. Gardiner in good time the next morning. The ride to Jamaica Road was quiet inside. Elizabeth was not sure what the visit was going to entail, but did not wish to discuss it with the other occupants. It was not a long distance, but the streets were crowded and they inched along until they reached The Asylum.

They were met by the Principal, Mr. Wainwright. He was a mature man who looked exactly like a schoolmaster. He exclaimed how delighted he was that they were visiting as they were not often blessed with visitors from the upper echelons of society. They had some financial backers and others who supported their cause as a social and Christian one, but there were few took the time to come visit the school and to see its success. He looked particularly at Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet as if assessing their financial worth.

The school was founded in 1792 and they currently enrolled 18 students each year. They admitted both boys and girls and employed both male and female assistants. Mr. Wainwright gave them a small tour of the main offices and reception areas as he explained the basic ideas behind the school. He even introduced them to the resident physician, Dr. Babington, who gave each pupil a thorough examination on entering the school.

The students were taught reading, writing, arithmetic, and a knowledge of the Scriptures. They were also taught to understand spoken language as best that they could. Mrs. Gardiner, with Catherine on her arm, smiled as the Principal discussed how they were giving deaf and dumb students an almost equal chance at basic education as those blessed with hearing and language.

The party of five was taken to visit the classrooms, and to meet the pupils. Mr. Wainwright asked several pupils to pronounce their names and to repeat words and sentences that were first written and then spoken. The students' degree of deafness varied, this affected the visiting party's ability to understand what was articulated. Some words and phrases could be easily distinguished, others were not plain. For the profoundly deaf, the effort of speaking was great, and the sounds were harsh and unnatural. Elizabeth saw that the students signed to each other in class, especially when Mr. Wainwright was speaking to the visitors.

One of the teachers was deaf and had been a student in another school before the Asylum was founded. He was able to read words from the Principal's lips and answer them. Mr. Wainwright explained that they strove to teach all the students to be able to read lips. Proof, said he, of "patient labor and perseverance in overcoming almost indomitable natural difficulties."

Elizabeth asked particularly about the learning of signing versus the learning of articulation. Mr. Wainwright believed strongly in teaching the pupils to speak and to read lips and placed a high value upon it, but articulation was not meant to be the only way for students to communicate. The learning of signing was encouraged, as it is an important method for the students to 'speak' amongst themselves and with the teachers and assistants.

Oral language was emphasized so that pupils learn to speak well enough to make their common needs known to those who do not sign. Mr. Wainwright saw articulation as their means out into the speaking world, but was intelligent enough to understand that learning both methods was of benefit.

And it came to Elizabeth, as she listened to Mr. Wainwright discussing the benefits of the school, and of learning to sign, and of learning to speak, that she wanted to do all in her power to found a free school in Meryton as a memorial to Mary. Not a school for the deaf, but free school for the local children.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Mr. Darcy accepted Mrs. Gardiner's invitation for a cup of tea after they finished their visit to _The Asylum for the Support and Education of the Deaf and Dumb Children of the Poor._ Catherine Parks excused herself to rest, having found her new spectacles gave her a headache.

Elizabeth waited patiently for her father to settle before the fire and have his first sip of tea before she introduced the idea of establishing a school in Meryton.

"That would be impossible," and he bit into a delicate biscuit.

"Papa, it is entirely possible, we can start small; I am not considering a boarding school, just a day school for local children. I would of course, need to figure out the best way to start such a school and its structure and schedule, but…" Here he interrupted her.

"Is there a need? I do not think there is a need; that there _are_ enough local children to fill the benches of this school that you have imagined."

"Even if there are _five_ children there is a need," she moved forward in her chair to sit on the edge.

"It would cost too much to establish."

"I know that the cost of changing the entail is great, but is there no money that we might put towards this venture?" Her tea cup sat untouched next to her as she reached out to his chair. Mr. Bennet blanched as she brought up a delicate subject, and he looked over at Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy was stoic as he weighed Elizabeth's disclosure. He had wished to enjoy his tea and the company of Elizabeth for a few minutes more after the tour, but here was her father's business for being in London, and serious business indeed!

"You must forgive my daughter for speaking out of turn Mr. Darcy. I would hope that you would, as a gentleman, keep that information to yourself." Darcy nodded towards Mr. Bennet.

"Consider, Papa, we can set it up as a memorial to Mary: 'The Mary Bennet Memorial Day School at Meryton'." Her voice lowered as she broached the subject. He leaned to hear her. And he considered it as an image of his middle daughter came to him. He had worried he would forget her face. In her lifetime she had only had one likeness taken since childhood. It had been a regret he had not been able to voice to anyone.

"Can we not practice some small economies to help fund it? The largest expense would be in the hiring of a schoolmaster or mistress to teach the pupils."

Darcy found that passion brought a flame to her eyes as he watched her argue with her father. He could never imagine Georgiana arguing with late Mr. Darcy or himself in such a manner. He could never imagine any woman arguing for such a cause, actually. A simple cup of tea had turned his thoughts and feelings into turmoil.

Darcy offered Mr. Bennet twenty pounds to help establish the school which cemented Elizabeth's position. She looked over him, her heart swelling with an extreme appreciation of his gift and was delighted to see the dancing smile in his eyes as he looked back at her. Her whole body flushed with happiness and she thanked him with all her heart.

He thanked Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet for allowing him to come along on the visit. He then, in turn, thanked Mrs. Gardiner for her hospitality.

Mrs. Gardiner reflected that this great man must have a partiality for her niece to see him smile at Elizabeth in such a manner. She also considered that Mr. Bennet did not seem mindful of Mr. Darcy's intentions. Mrs. Gardiner was surprised, because Elizabeth had never mentioned to her of any partiality of her own for Mr. Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy," she addressed him formally, "Mr. Gardiner and I would like to invite you to dinner some evening. I fear you may miss the Bennets and Miss Parks as they are going home sooner than expected."

"Is that so?" The smile disappeared from his face.

"I fear our business will take longer than anticipated, but it can be conducted from our home. And I am missing my library and my family," Mr. Bennet declared from his seat.

Darcy took his leave of Elizabeth not knowing when or whether he would see her again.

They were leaving for a walk, Miss Parks' stick held firmly, and a servant nearby to lend a hand, when a carriage pulled up and Miss Bingley alighted.

Elizabeth and Catherine returned to the drawing room, and tea was soon poured while they exchanged pleasantries. Elizabeth was surprised that she would show herself in Cheapside, but Miss Bingley carried out ever arrear of civility. She had been enjoying an overabundance of social invitations, which was her delight when in London. Miss Bingley was looking forward to a long winter's stay there; she commented that Charles was also staying in town, so Netherfield would be quite empty. Her inquires included a particular request after Kitty's progress on the pianoforte.

Her stay was longer than the required fifteen minutes, but she then abruptly stood and declared distantly that she had another call to make and took her leave.

"She certainly enjoys living in London," said Elizabeth.

"Yes, yes she does," was Catherine's reply as they sat and finished their tea.

Mr. Bennet fondly wished for more news, but received none before they left by coach in two days' time. The journey was longer than, and not nearly as comfortable, as the one in Mr. Darcy's carriage.

Their family was happy to see them with various motivations behind their greetings. Mrs. Bennet never felt comfortable without a man in the house—the servants did not count—and extra flutterings and palpitations had bothered her while Mr. Bennet had been away. Lydia was quite excited to exclaim over the fabric, ribbons and lace that had been brought back for her. Having grown in height over the summer and hoping formally to come out; she wanted only Mr. Bennet's permission to dress in new finery to shine at social events. Kitty had missed her pianoforte lessons with Elizabeth and the growing intimacy with her older sister. Jane found it weary to be running a household without being formally in charge. It made her wish for a house of her own some day.

Elizabeth was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe Jane. Jane was encouraging, forgiving and her useful cheerful self, but she was not happy.

Jane let it slip to Elizabeth that she had, at first, high hopes in terms of Bingley's affections and had said much to encourage him in his confidence about her regards. His cheerfulness and his outlook had matched her own, but it was in his conversation, which he dominated, where she began to realize that he did not esteem or encourage her part. He was a man who had much to say, and he had mentioned on a number of occasions about never being able to finish sentences with so many sisters in the house. It was as if he was making up for years of neglected conversations.

But still, Jane, having never fallen in love before, nursed a tender feeling for him. There was a romantic side to her and the idea of loving someone from their initial first impression appealed to her though her head would argue with her. Elizabeth mentioned Miss Bingley's visit and the news that Netherfield Hall was likely to be empty through the winter. Jane bore this with fortitude and went about her daily business with her cheerful smile. Underneath, she wondered at Mr. Bingley's affection if he was to remain away the entire winter.

"Would a woman rather have a silk handkerchief or a wooden door as a gift?" asked Darcy as he settled by the fire; the rain outside did not encourage either gentleman to consider a night on the town.

"What a preposterous question!"

"Well answer it."

"A silk handkerchief."

"Would she rather receive a silk handkerchief or a tea cup?" Darcy pressed. Mr. Bingley glared at him over the top of his brandy glass.

"A silk handkerchief," Bingley answered with an exasperated air.

"Why?"

"All my sisters prefer items of clothing."

"There you are wrong; it would be making a mistake to assume what women like based on your knowledge of your five sisters." Bingley looked at him as if Darcy did _not_ _understand_ and with the air of one who is about to argue. "How many sisters do I have Charles?"

"One. I forget sometimes she is a sister," he knit his brow together and slumped a little in his chair.

"Interesting comment, may I ask why?"

"Well I think of her as 'Miss Darcy' and not in terms of her relationship to you."

"Can you think of your sisters in such terms as _who_ they are and not in terms of their relationship to you?"

"You only have _one_ sister, and not _five_ older ones," he pouted exactly like a disappointed school boy.

"It is an exercise in observation Charles, what can you say about Miss Bingley, for instance, as she is closest to you in age," he looked over at his friend who frowned and slumped even more in his chair.

"No, let us not start there."

"Then your eldest sister, Mrs. Carville."

"Amelia … I will try."

Slowly, they discussed each sister in turn, Darcy teasing out character traits when Bingley was more inclined to lament the treatment he received as the youngest member of a family of six. There were far too many tales of dictatorial, older sisters.

"Remember when you came to Ramsgate when I asked you?" They had enjoyed a nice supper—Mr. Darcy's French cook was superb—and were settled again in the study.

"Yes, I was quite put out at the time to leave London."

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciated your help in moving Georgiana from her establishment there back to Pemberley?" Darcy's face was lit only by the fire, but its features revealed little of the tumult beneath.

"You took me away from London, and Miss Webster; I was quite aggravated with you at the time. I almost did not come. But your letter was very insistent, and so I did come." Bingley looked over at Darcy.

"Yes, you were a loyal friend to come. But I think I need to explain fully. You see Georgiana was going to elope and I stopped her just in time." The handsome face was stiff as he controlled strong emotions.

"Darcy! I am not sure what to say!" Bingley sat up to look at his friend, his shock evident on his face.

"Yes, an acquaintance from our youth persuaded her to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement; he was only after her fortune. I am thankful that nothing untoward really did happen. Colonel Fitzwilliam was out of the country at the time which is why I sent for you. I truly appreciate your coming to me at the time." His eyes sought those of his friend and held them for a moment.

"It got me over Miss Webster," Bingley leaned back and stared into the fire.

"At the time I did not pursue the blackguard as I felt that I did not wish to reveal incidents which might expose Georgiana, but have since decided I cannot let him get away with treating any other woman in such a manner. Now I am attempting to find him and at least have others understand his character even if there is nothing I can do in a court of law."

"And how has the pursuit gone?"

"Poorly, I am afraid. He seems to have disappeared entirely. I am not able to account for him since he was able to sell his lieutenancy post in the regulars. He is a fox who has gone to ground."

"What do you intend to do next?"

"I am working with some former contacts of his, and my own in the War Office." Darcy paused to stare at the flickering lights of the fire.

"I have another confession to make," he looked over at Bingley, who glanced at him wondering at this evening of confessions from his stoic friend, "I fear that I influenced you to lease Netherfield Hall partly because I believed that he, Mr. Wickham, may have been in the area."

"Darcy!" Bingley sat up again. "You tell me why you tore me away from Miss Webster, and then you tell me you deliberately told me to lease Netherfield so you can hunt down this man?" His face began to turn a bright shade of red.

"I could not have signed the lease for you. I merely suggested the area to you as Colonel Fitzwilliam had given me some information that Wickham was in Hertfordshire and friends, or rather acquaintances, since he never keeps friends for long, indicated he was considering joining the militia. But none of the information was correct as he was not in the Monmouthshire militia and Captain Yelverton, who is Richard's right-hand-man, said he was not known amongst the men in the regulars who have moved into Stevenage."

"And I leased a house for you on pure speculation! Just to help you out!" He shouted.

"And you met Miss Jane Bennet!" His friend countered, which ended the argument.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Captain Yelverton came to visit soon after their return. He had apparently called a few times while they were away, and Mrs. Bennet considered his attentions fixed on Jane; he more often spent time conversing with her than the other two young ladies at Longbourn.

This time he brought his superior with him, Colonel Fitzwilliam. The Colonel was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. He entered into conversation directly, with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly. Elizabeth was surprised, knowing he was cousin to Mr. Darcy, at the difference in their conduct in society. She found him a most charming gentleman and enjoyed the visit immensely, surprising herself since she had been considering society functions, and people in general, as having less of an importance to her these days.

After the visit by the men in red coats, Mrs. Bennet was effusive in her delight at the prospects for her daughters. It was a shame that Mr. Bingley had returned to town, she bewailed, but she had high hopes for the attentions that Captain Yelverton was paying to Jane. That left Colonel Fitzwilliam open to be paired with Lizzy or Kitty; and there was Mr. Worthing's attentions to Lydia.

Elizabeth thanked her mother for her share of that consideration, but said she had no intentions of marrying. Kitty piped up with the same sentiment which brought a shocked silence to Mrs. Bennet's musing.

"But you know Mamma, Mr. Worthing has not visited as often as he used to," lamented Lydia.

"That is true, my dear, but he may simply be busy. He has stressed how much Colonel Forster depends on him. By the by Lizzy, have not you heard? Colonel Forster is to be married! All those hints about a lady in Kent were true. So he will no longer be a single man. So you had better set your sights on that Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"I have only just met him Mamma. How do I now what are his fine points? What are his faults? As I have said Mamma, I have no intentions of marrying, or only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony which is why I shall end up an old maid."

"And who will look after you when your father is gone? With the entail, and none of you married what will happen to you. Who shall provide for you? I am sure I do not understand you at all Lizzy!" She threw up her hands.

Catherine looked at her friend in dialogue with her mother. Elizabeth had changed in the time since they had moved from the Park's home in Bath to Longbourn. Though Elizabeth had been on the road to physical recovery during her stay at Bath, and in her first few weeks at Longbourn, her spirit had recovered in the past two months. At that first Assembly ball, when they had seen, but never formally met, Mr. Darcy, Lizzy had been contrite and taciturn, even stubborn. Thankfully, Catherine had never mentioned Mr. Darcy's remarks about Elizabeth to her. Now, with her school to establish, furnish and enroll, and a growing admiration of the gentleman, she was a compassionate, purposeful young lady.

Catherine's spirits had not improved since her move to Longbourn. She was missing Dr. Markham. Propriety did not allow them to correspond, and most of the friends she had made at Priestwood Green had recovered and moved back to their families; so she had no other news of what was happening at the sanitarium which was why she longed for a trip to Kent in the spring.

Kitty sat next to Miss Parks as they watched the verbal banter between Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth. She was also thinking of Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. Somehow, she had always noticed him; he was so tall. Kitty speculated that she might marry a tall man, though that was a day that would not occur for some time. Her desire was to grow in her pursuits, not to pursue gentlemen.

Katherine's time at Netherfield had been illuminating in observing Mr. Darcy's own observations of her sister. That he admired her was obvious to her. Elizabeth had seemed to be unaware of his attentions at the time, and she was not sure if she should mention them to her sister. Lizzy's tale of his joining them on the school visit and donating money cemented his admiration of Elizabeth in Kitty's eyes; and of Kitty's admiration of him in hers. For to love a sister meant that she could not help but value him.

* * *

Elizabeth was gainfully employed with setting up the school. A number of families were delighted with her desire for a day school in Meryton, though she did meet with some opposition. Some people felt that to educate the lower classes might make them dissatisfied with their lot in life; Elizabeth found she had a path to wind in soothing concerns and propping up egos in rallying local support for the school.

One interesting opponent was Reverend Vickers. He did not side with those in town who felt that the lower classes should not be educated; so much as he opposed the idea of the school being held on Sundays.

For in Elizabeth's studies on the running of such a school, she found that to run a day school it was not likely to be successful if classes were held every day. Children, even young children, are often needed at home by working families, and could not be spared four or five or six days a week for instruction. A _Sunday_ school was the best way to start her school. Instruction could be offered after church services, children would be allowed to go home for a mid-day meal, and return for more instruction in the afternoon. It might be possible to expand instruction to more days of the week if parents saw the benefits to their children and families, but only _after_ they saw the benefit.

It was probably only because she had been such a stalwart supporter of the poor during the scarlet fever crisis, and her own struggles with it, that Reverend Vickers did not ultimately oppose the school. It still took several visits to the vicarage with her father to fully lay out her plans, and one very well laid-out dinner by Mrs. Bennet to have his reluctant agreement to the plans for the Mary Bennet Memorial School.

There still remained the issue of employing a schoolmaster or a schoolmistress. Elizabeth discussed with Catherine what Mr. Worthing had brought up to them about Mr. Cauldwell being in need of employment.

"He is an educated man. I believe he once said he went to Oxford, which makes him more than qualified to teach our little school even if he is an absurd, pompous and narrow-minded," began Elizabeth.

"Are you sure you want to entrust enlightening young minds to a man whom you have just stated is 'narrow-minded'?" She chortled.

"Perhaps I am beginning to think more like Jane, or rather, feeling more like Jane, and believe we need to forgive, and give him a chance. We can make him the offer and he can refuse us. He does not need to know that we know he is in reduced circumstances."

"We do _not_ _know_ for sure that he is in reduced circumstances Lizzy. Recall that we have only heard this second-hand from Mr. Worthing."

"And you continue to distrust that gentleman?"

"Yes. Why has he stopped his visits to Longbourn and his attentions to your sister? Lydia is becoming almost intolerable at breakfast as she counts the days since she has seen his 'fine shoulders.' Has anyone in Meryton seen him?"

"Do you think he has run off, left his post in the militia? Perhaps he has simply found a new interest other than an unenlightened fifteen year-old companion."

* * *

Late fall evenings meant cold and wet weather, but the party at the Goulding's was a happy one. All three sons were home from school. During supper, Mr. Goulding formally announced that his daughter, Miss Amy Goulding, and Mr. Alexander Wilding were engaged to be married. There were many congratulations and toasts and the wine flowed freely.

After the gentlemen joined the ladies, some of the red coats came to sit with the Longbourn ladies. Mr. Matthews had bright red cheeks and shining eyes, Elizabeth suspected that he had had a great deal of port. Mr. Denny was effusive and smiling.

"Ladies, well met!" declared Mr. Denny as he bowed and then took a seat near Catherine. Mr. Matthews sat by the Bennet sisters Elizabeth and Katherine.

"Mr. Denny, it has been a long time since we have seen you," replied Elizabeth; "I have been so occupied with my plans for the school that I have not been making many social calls. And with a number of families in town for the winter, our social season in Meryton has decreased. I hope you have not been disappointed?"

"Fear not, dear lady. While we may lament the change in society; the encampment of regulars in Stevenage has meant that we have had more to do. Colonel Forster has put us through our paces. Besides, I have been enjoying meeting my fellow officers in Colonel Fitzwilliam's regiment." He was leaning forward with an eagerness that was unusual for him.

"He is a most pleasant gentleman," remarked Kitty with an almost similar effusiveness.

"Quite a contrast to his cousin Mr. Darcy," announced Mr. Matthews whose mouth pulled down as he looked at Kitty, then at Elizabeth.

"More talkative, perhaps, but I find them both honorable gentlemen," replied Elizabeth.

"We have had stories from Mr. Worthing on Mr. Darcy's unworthiness; while I _must_ say I find Colonel Fitzwilliam the type of commander I would follow into battle blind-folded," he held a hand over his eyes briefly; "he is exactly the type we need with this Bonaparte threat."

"What sorts of stories, and where is Mr. Worthing? we have not seen him since our return from London," there was a small tightness in her chest as she listened to Mr. Matthews' pronouncement.

"Lately he has been refusing invitations and staying in his quarters," interjected Mr. Denny, "he claims he has had some business matters to attend to, that is all." He dismissed Mr. Worthing's absence with a small movement of his hand.

"You mentioned stories?" She prompted.

"He said he was ill-used by Mr. Darcy. That the late Mr. Darcy had left him a sum of money," began Mr. Denny.

"No, I think it was living," Mr. Matthews interrupted, swaying in his chair.

"I cannot imagine Mr. Worthing as a clergyman!" exclaimed Catherine.

"I think it was a sum of money for if it was a living how could Mr. Worthing have been refused it if it was in a will?" argued Mr. Denny. "He was left or recommended or something, some money that this current Mr. Darcy refused to give him. So he had to scrape together the money for his commission in the regulars which caused some ill-will amongst some of his family members. He said he was lucky that he found a purchaser for his commission when he decided to leave, because you sometimes cannot—find a purchaser that is. And he moved to the militia."

"Do you know what rank he held in the regulars?" asked Catherine.

"He was a lieutenant," replied Mr. Matthews. Catherine looked over at Elizabeth, raising one small eyebrow.

"That is a quite interesting tale of woe on Mr. Worthing's part," Elizabeth commented.

"It sounds as if you find his tale to be wanting," and he stared at her. His eyes crossed a little so he closed them as if to clear his head.

"We only have Mr. Worthing's side in the matter," she continued.

"Yet we all know Mr. Darcy's high and mighty manner and his cold dealing with other people. People in Meryton did not find him to their liking," added Mr. Denny.

"I have not found him to be so!" Elizabeth replied heatedly.

They were called from their discussion by requests from Amy's eldest brother, Mr. James Goulding, for more good wishes while more wine was passed out. It was both a festive and an illuminating evening.

* * *

Mr. Bennet agreed, as there appeared no other alternative besides advertising for the position, to discuss the teaching opportunity with Mr. Cauldwell.

The gentleman was profuse in his thanks for the invitation to tea. Mr. Bennet had managed to maneuver Mrs. Bennet into a visit to her sister in town, and she brought Lydia with her. Jane poured while they listened to their guest ramble on about little nothings, visits to neighbors, critiques of Reverend Vickers' sermons, or whatever struck him at the moment.

Once their first cup of tea had been consumed, Elizabeth introduced the subject of her school. Mr. Cauldwell interrupted her several times with small ideas on improvements about the structure, setup and general running of the school.

"Mr. Cauldwell, the one item the school is missing is a schoolmaster." She turned to look at her father. They had discussed the presentation of the actual post and agreed that it should come from Mr. Bennet.

"Mr. Cauldwell, seeing as how you have not yet found a living, we would like to offer you the post of schoolmaster to the Mary Bennet Memorial School. I am sure we can come to some reasonable terms as to the wages." He supplied his best smile, though it was not in his nature to charm his fellows.

Mr. Cauldwell sat up straight with his shoulders suddenly held very stiffly.

"I have not been brought up to be a lowly schoolmaster Mr. Bennet! My position in life is far loftier—I am in fact your heir and all of this," and he indicated the tea pot, the furnishings and the room, "will one day be mine."

The Bennet family sat in stunned silence for many minutes. Mr. Cauldwell relaxed his shoulders somewhat and took a sip of tea while Mr. Bennet and his daughters absorbed what he had said.

"Are you claiming to be my heir, Mr. William Collins, lately of Oxford, Oxfordshire, and son of my late Aunt Prudence Collins nee Bennet?" Requested Mr. Bennet finally.

"I am sir."

There was many more minutes of silence as they stared openly at their newly discovered relation.

"Papa, do you wish to talk to this gentleman alone? Should we leave?" asked Jane. Elizabeth's hand curled around the arm of her chair thinking that nothing could drag her away from that conversation. Kitty looked pale but had eyes only for her father.

"No my dears, this affects all of you; I wish you to stay. Please explain yourself Mr. Collins—I shall have to get used to that. Why have you been introduced as Mr. Cauldwell all these months?"

"It has been Mr. Brunton's idea. I came to Meryton in late September to call upon the Longbourn family. I was staying at the Horse and Groom and that very day happened to run into Mr. Brunton. He indicated to me that you would not be welcoming to me as you had five daughters—excuse me sir had five, now have four—to consider and that you had often discussed with him the unfairness of the entail on the future of your daughters.

"Mr. Brunton convinced me to not introduce myself, but I did not have sufficient funds at the time for another change of address. My late father, while all goodness and sternness as a father, has not left me with a sufficient income and my investments have been found wanting lately. I moved into Mr. Brunton's house and assumed a new name. I have continued my applications for a living, but have received no replies to my inquires. I also considered it my duty to ingratiate myself with your family as best as I could that you might see my admirable qualities so when the time came to reveal myself it would lessen the burden you felt in giving over this estate to me."

"As your master Mr. Collins, may I ask about the state of your finances in the near term?"

They were not good, but he had high hopes, with his revelation of their new intimacy as family, that Mr. Bennet would help him. While he would not in any way consider being a schoolmaster, he did have hopes of obtaining a living by purchase since he could not obtain one by merit. He smiled broadly and obsequiously as he laid out his plans to obtain a living by purchase for the small sum of fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds secure in the hopes that Mr. Bennet would help him out as his master since he was his new found heir and relation.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Mr. Cauldwell departed, his steps light, and his gait merry as he made his way back to Meryton happy in the knowledge that Mr. Bennet now knew of their relationship, and assured that Mr. Bennet would help him out of his financial difficulties as a Christian man, and as his master and relation.

Jane offered to send a fresh pot of tea to Mr. Bennet in his study, but he said that this topic needed to be discussed between them _before_ Mrs. Bennet came home. He was thankful that Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips could talk at length, and that they likely had some time yet. A fresh pot of tea would be welcome in the parlor, however, as this news affected all the Bennet daughters, but especially Jane.

"Whatever can be Mr. Brunton's motivations for suggesting such a scheme to Mr. Cauldwell, or rather Mr. Collins?" Elizabeth asked.

"I do not know for sure. I can _surmise_ that there has been some deep-rooted dislike of our family that stems from when he was a clerk in your Grandfather Gardiner's office. You know he and your Uncle Philips were both clerks there, but Mr. Philips married your Aunt, and Grandpa Gardiner gave him the practice. I can imagine there has been some resentment on Mr. Brunton's part, though his own practice has always been successful to my eye. The measurement of how great that resentment has been, however, has now come to light and is grave indeed!"

Kitty sat near her father and tentatively reached out a hand to her father and clasped his in hers. He squeezed it.

"This has been a day of wonders. Our long-lost relation has come home, and turns out to be the most absurd man in Meryton, even more absurd than our dear Sir William Lucas!" He smiled at his three children. "Now, my dears, I have more disclosures to which Elizabeth has been privileged."

Jane and Kitty were an attentive audience as he explained about his plans for breaking the entail and his meetings with Mr. Dunton.

"Jane, this especially affects you, as you would be heiress to Longbourn." Jane looked like she would burst into tears.

"Whatever is the matter dearest?" cried Elizabeth.

"It is such a huge change. And it would make Mr. Collins destitute."

"You are more concerned with letting a man of two month's acquaintance have your family home than the possibility that you might keep it?" she cried with exasperation.

"I love my home Lizzy, no one can ever deny that, and I do not want to lose it. I was thinking of what Mr. Collins said, little hints of his family life. Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what the difficulties of any individual of that family may be. He seems to have had a difficult life, and I would not wish for our actions to make him entirely destitute. He _is_ family." She took in a breath, "But if we can keep Longbourn," and she smiled at her father, "that would be a great turn of events."

"Before our tea is cold and your mother returns, we need to figure out what to tell her," said Mr. Bennet.

"She must be told," volunteered Kitty, "but we need to let her know in such a fashion that we are not subject to hysterics and headaches for the next week. It will affect poor Miss Parks, Mamma's clamorous hysterics, with Miss Parks' real headaches—I am not sure that Catherine's eyeglasses are helping her if they give her continual headaches."

Mr. Bennet was not ready to reveal to Mrs. Bennet his schemes for removing the entail until they had more concrete details to provide to her, so they must suffer through whatever reaction she would ply them with.

After the servants had retired from the supper table he imparted the news about the identity of their guest at the tea table that afternoon.

Perhaps in one way Elizabeth and her mother were alike in that their feelings were always intensely felt. Elizabeth showed a wide range of emotion: love, joy, anger, outrage, sorrow. Mrs. Bennet's were more limited. Outrage, was, perhaps, her most often displayed and in a very different manner than her daughter.

She declared Mr. Cauldwell or Mr. Collins hypocritical and a false friend, and implied that she had known that there was something to suspect about his behavior all along. Any successor to her house was not to be tolerated, but to find it in the body of such a ridiculous man added to an instant bout of ill-humor. By the end of the meal, she was declaring herself ill, and fearing for the palpitations in her chest, retired to her bed directly after supper.

* * *

Elizabeth checked on Catherine after supper. Catherine had requested a meal on a tray as the headache, which had bothered her all day, had been intense. The optician had warned her that her eyes would need time to adjust to the strength of her lenses, but he had provided no other advice as to how long she might use them in one sitting or what to do in cases such as this.

"It makes me wish Dr. Markham might whip me up one of his draughts," and she smiled sweetly.

"You still miss him."

"I do not think an hour goes by that I do not think about him, Elizabeth. We have no understanding; I do not know his feelings for me, and yet, there is everything about his character that suits me. A gentleman who has answered a higher calling to eschew what society deems is right to do what he believes God thinks is right by administering to those who are suffering. How can you not admire such a man?" She closed her eyes for a moment. "But I cannot have any hope—no matter how much you may say he may admire me—for what gentleman would want a blind wife?"

"He is certainly an admirable gentleman and we, and Miss Goulding, owe him our lives. Many people do, I am sure. As for your hopes, shall we travel to Kent in the spring? I am not certain if I may persuade my father to such a trip, but I will try. You have been a loyal friend and I sure that I have not been as supportive a friend as I might be back to you."

There was some discussion of points of interest to be seen in Kent before Miss Parks found the need to close her eyes against the light and Elizabeth left her to rest.

The parlor was quiet as the Bennet sisters worked on various projects. Even Lydia was calmly stitching, letting down the hem on a gown. Elizabeth stared at her school notes, unseeing. Her thoughts first were on Catherine Parks. At the time, she had not considered much about their stay in Bath. Now she was considering Catherine's family and its contrast to her own. Mr. Parks kept a very formal style of living, despite having retrenched. Elizabeth had not seen any signs of affection between the family members. In her family, for all her mother's hysterics or her father's solitude: there was love and affection; questions of well-being and solicitations of opinions, and encouragement. Perhaps, if you could somehow account for _why_ one would fall in love, Dr. Markham's concern and encouragement, when Miss Parks was sick, were such a contrast to what Catherine received from her family.

She looked at Kitty and Lydia and could not imagine either one in love. Not yet. Kitty had blossomed so much lately. If the death of a sister could be said to be a positive thing; it had woken Kitty from a foolish path of mimicry in imitating everything Lydia, or Maria Lucas, or the Harrington sisters found fascinating, and set her on a path of her own making. One towards becoming a well informed and accomplished young woman. Lydia was still foolish, a flirt with no inclination to improve her mind but self-willed, even careless. Lydia had time, she was not even sixteen.

Jane was still the same; they had agreed to not discuss Mr. Bingley even if Mrs. Bennet compared and contrasted him and Captain Yelverton. And it was then that Elizabeth's thoughts turned to Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth had poured herself into the work for the school, and in work had found purpose and some measure of happiness. To deny that Mr. Darcy occupied her thoughts would be foolish, but she could not admit that, even to Catherine. Mr. Darcy's character must excite respect. When alone, their conversation had been fluid and easy; the flow of ideas well-matched. In society it was a different matter and he was, as Mr. Denny unfairly portrayed him, distant and cold. If a man does not join readily in a conversation, not have that ease and warmth of his contemporaries, does that make him cold?

She had not truly considered his worth until the tipsy Mr. Matthews and Mr. Denny had related Mr. Worthing's claims about Mr. Darcy's unfairness about some sort of inheritance. Mr. Darcy was a gentleman of a great estate. And as such had many people's happiness in his guardianship as landlord, master and brother, for she remembered that long afternoon he spent crafting a letter to his sister. How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow.

And if Catherine were correct in her deductions of his admiration, Elizabeth must be grateful for such a man's admiration. She was flattered and pleased by it. What her own feelings were about him, were a different matter. She wondered at Jane and Catherine who seemed to so easily have fallen in love and be able to identify the emotion. Familial love was a strong emotion for her, and one that motivated her on many levels. Romantic love was new and different. Elizabeth felt more discomposed than happy when she considered Mr. Darcy.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived, as usual, to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and to describe the newest fashions. When this was done, she has a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen and to observe.

Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. She had been very ill used since she last saw her sister. Mr. Bingley's admiration of Jane had come to naught, and now Captain Yelverton did not call as often as he used to. And heaven knows what had become of Mr. Worthing! And Miss Goulding was to be married to an upstart new neighbor. Not that she considered Mr. Alexander Wilding a worthy catch, yet to have one of her daughter's friends marrying when she had four single daughters was an affront to her pride.

And all this funny business with Mr. Collins disguising himself as a Mr. Cauldwell, it seemed very nefarious business indeed, and she did not even trust that he was who he claimed. She imagined the real Mr. Collins lying in a ditch somewhere.

The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, the Lucases and other families, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister that they did not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it, and Mr. Worthing made an appearance again.

His general powers of affording pleasure were great. Lydia no longer moped and moaned at the breakfast table about his absence, but exclaimed about the almost daily visits from the man. He was introduced to Mrs. Gardiner who had spent a considerable time in Derbyshire before her marriage and had many an acquaintance in that part of the country. Mr. Worthing was able to share intelligence with her about some of these acquaintances. He had also put forward to her and her niece his claims on Mr. Darcy which Mr. Matthews had hinted about: that he had been left a living by the late Mr. Darcy which the current Mr. Darcy had seen fit to ignore, and which had left him in a destitute state, having to borrow money from relations for his commission.

When on the receiving end of the story and told with that dimpled smile, Elizabeth wondered if there might not be some validity to it. Mr. Worthing's powers of persuasion were great when she was in discourse with him. She then recalled that late night talk with Catherine who always maintained there was something untrustworthy about him, especially when it came to his speeches. She attempted to temper what she knew about both men and realized that she knew very little about Mr. Worthing beyond what he said about himself—and he talked and praised himself a great deal. Of Mr. Darcy, there were others who could back up his character.

Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, Mr. Darcy's estate, and had known the late Mr. Darcy by character perfectly well. She tried to remember something of the present Mr. Darcy's reputed disposition when she was growing up before she had become acquainted with him. It had been over ten years since she had been in the area, but she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy which is how Mr. Worthing painted him.

That contrasted with what she had seen in her meetings with him in London since her niece had introduced him to her acquaintance. He was a man of generosity who donated money to found a school for the poor. A man who was a good friend—he had once cancelled a dinner engagement with the Gardiners saying he needed to attend to his friend Bingley one evening because he was in low spirits. A man who was in love with their niece; she had suspected a partiality for her niece when she first met the man, and had not been dissuaded of the idea yet. During the tour of the Asylum he was most inattentive to Mr. Wainwright as he had eyes only for Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner was little in doubt that the gentleman was overflowing in admiration.

No word had been mentioned by Elizabeth and the subject had never been begun by her niece. She could not ascertain what her niece's feelings were about the gentleman in question. In London she had wondered if Elizabeth was at all aware of his regard. But in the weeks since her return from London, Elizabeth had never mentioned the gentleman in their correspondence, and in his few visits to the Gardiners since, he did not appear to be a man pining away in love. He had either steeled himself or his partiality for Elizabeth was over.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

A/N: don't forget to read the updated Chapter 22. I replaced my A/N with the _real_ Chapter 22, but the Fanfiction system does not send out notices if you replace a chapter, only when you upload a new one.

* * *

Even though the New Year approached and there were guests in the house, the business with Mr. Collins meant a lot of correspondence between the attorney Mr. Dunton and Mr. Bennet. Mr. Dunton felt that Mr. Bennet may actually be able to amend the entail, if they were able to offer to help Mr. Collins with the purchase of a living. In return for the purchase, Mr. Collins would agree to the amendment, if the living was valuable enough. That would save with the expense of attempting to argue the 'legal fiction' that the entail was not being carried out as was set down by Great-Grandpa Bennet.

Mr. Dunton's time was then spent focusing on finding livings for sale, for there were gentlemen who had advertised them for purchase rather than giving them away on merit. There were always ones to be found advertised in the London papers, but how quickly they would become available was another matter needed to be considered—for there was always the matter of the current incumbent. He found three he considered possible candidates and sent the information to Mr. Bennet with the idea that they discuss the matter with Mr. Collins right after the New Year.

* * *

At one of her mother's parties during the Gardiner's Christmas visit, Mr. Worthing approached her seat, bowed and took a seat. It had been another triumphant dinner and Mrs. Bennet had been considering how well the news in Meryton would give her credit, despite all the competition from the Gouldings with engagement suppers that winter.

Elizabeth was tired. She had continued to work on plans for the school while entertaining her aunt and uncle. Catherine and Elizabeth had been glad for the separation after supper and found the quietest corner in the drawing room for a cup of coffee and tranquility.

"You are both very quiet," his tone was jovial as if he had been appointed by a master of ceremonies to cheer them both up.

"It has been a long week of parties and engagements," said Catherine, "Mrs. Bennet has ensured we have had the merriest of Christmases."

"We have not seen you for most of December, Mr. Worthing, has Colonel Forster kept you busy, but you are now left off your duties as he has gone off to be married?" Elizabeth asked as he took his seat.

"I did have many duties with the militia; Colonel Forster relies on me highly, to be sure. I have also had some private business which has kept me in my lodgings." His air was one of a man with many dealings.

"I believe poor Lydia was missing your company," Catherine returned his smile with one of her equally disarming ones and it seemed to catch him off-guard, as he stopped leaning forward with his familiar air.

"You related to us some interesting news during your last visit, you mentioned Mr. Darcy and your grievances against him," Elizabeth began.

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "They are old grievances. I have heard that your long-lost relative has shown up Miss Elizabeth?" He nodded at her and smiled.

"How did you find that out? I did not know that had become general knowledge." She lowered her voice to a mere whisper. Even Catherine did not know all of the minute details and she was shocked that Mr. Worthing would bring it up.

"Mr. Brunton mentioned to me that his border was considering taking a house of his own now that he had found his family." He was leaning forward again.

"What?" She could not keep the shock from her voice.

He grinned broadly. "I have often run into Mr. Brunton at the pub saloon at the _Horse & Groom_—he does like his pint—and he mentioned that Mr. Cauldwell was not who he said he was and was considering moving to lodgings of his own." Satisfied with his message, he leaned back to look at the flushed cheeks of Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

London was cold and wet. Generally Christmas was cold and white, but continual rain but a damper on her usual spirits.

Georgiana had come down from Pemberley with her companion, Mrs. Annesley, and they made a small party at the Darcy London house. She always delighted in any amount of time that she could spend with her brother, so it was a bit of a shock when she was met with a retiring brother and a somber household, for Mr. Bingley the bastion of all that was cheery, was almost as withdrawn as her brother. The Christmas season was not quite what she had expected, though Mr. Bingley's sister came to call and there were visits to her uncle and aunt, and other friends.

Miss Bingley was staying with friends for most of December and they rarely saw her. When they did, her spirits were high whenever she appeared, to visit either her brother or just Miss Darcy, and that did help to enliven the Darcy household. Georgiana wondered at the change in her brother and his friend, but felt it was not her place to ask her brother.

The appearance of Miss Darcy elevated Bingley's outlook and his temperament. Darcy had spent much of his time employed in attending to his friend and found in doing so that he was almost able to forget Elizabeth Bennet. The season in London had certainly been quite different from what he had been used to, though he did not miss much all the little activities and parties that had been an enjoyment to him in years past. The company of his friend had been enough, with discussions of their fall visit to Hertfordshire.

For the first time, time and distance had not cured Charles Bingley for his love. He was quieter now when he discussed Miss Jane Bennet, but still rallied with spirit if challenged by his friend on the strength of his regard. He listened to his friend and finally allowed some merit to be placed in Darcy's arguments about how quickly and how strongly he showed his regard. Bingley was able to begin to see that to be worthy of Miss Jane Bennet, he needed to value her opinions and not be in such a hurry to show his regard and affection for her. A woman worthy of being loved was not an object that was snatched off the shelf because it was desired.

"Charles, for if there is love between you, then there can be no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved, and in order to understand her heart, you must listen to what it says." Darcy had advised late one evening right before Georgiana had arrived. And of all the conversations they had had, this one had been listened to, and this one had made an impression on Mr. Bingley. His heart belonged to Miss Jane Bennet and he wanted hers in return. And he finally felt willing to listen to what it had to say to him.

* * *

The final evening of the Gardiner's visit was a large party of friends and officers at Longbourn. Elizabeth saw a sea of red coats, but felt thankful that she did not spy Mr. Worthing among the assembled. After his disclosure the evening before she had felt very unnerved by his behavior; she was waiting until her uncle and aunt left before she mentioned his disclosure to her father, but realized that the subject was wearing on her greatly. The evening was not one she was looking forward to, despite the large assembly of neighbors and friends and the prospect of one last evening with her aunt.

The murmur of conversation surrounded her and she could distinguish no particular conversation, but she regarded the various vignettes in the largest drawing room at Longbourn. Lydia, Maria Lucas and the two Harrington sisters were giggling as their hands flew up and down while they each talked over the others. Kitty, Catherine, Jane and a few other young ladies sat talking more politely by a refreshment table. One young lady, one of Mrs. Long's nieces, kept glancing at the circle of red coats that was near the fire. One officer was leaning boldly on the mantel and Elizabeth feared that his coat tails may catch fire. Captain Yelverton was speaking to her father with another officer. Her mother was all aglow about some topic with some of the other matrons of Meryton.

"Miss Elizabeth, good evening," Colonel Fitzwilliam murmured; he caught her unawares and she turned, a little startled, to face him.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, how do you do?"

He replied that he was well. His duties in Stevenage with his company had kept him busy and he had been obligated to stay in the area and not travel to London to visit his cousin Mr. Darcy for Christmas.

Elizabeth's thoughts flew to Mr. Darcy and she wondered if the Colonel could tell that she was thinking of his cousin, and she feared she blushed at the idea. Elizabeth had hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the age of emotion she certainly had not.

Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired. He could talk agreeably on almost any topic, of traveling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertain in that room before. Their conversation took them into the excellent supper that her mother had prepared and they continued it afterwards, when the gentlemen joined the ladies. Her evening, to which she had dreaded, had turned into one quite that was quite delightful.

When Captain Yelverton and another officer eventually claimed Colonel Fitzwilliam's attention, Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Parks joined Elizabeth.

"You have had an excellent evening Elizabeth," began her aunt, "you have certainly been monopolizing the attentions of Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"He is a superior gentleman for sure, aunt. His conversation is so ready and easy. It is such an interesting contrast to his cousin, though I do not find fault with Mr. Darcy at all for his conversation; he too is a superior gentleman."

Her aunt smiled knowingly that Elizabeth would mention Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in the same breath. It answered many questions for her.

Mrs. Gardiner next turned to both young ladies and extended an invitation for them to join her and Mr. Gardiner on a tour of the Lakes, and possibly Derbyshire, in the spring. Their response was positive and grateful, and Elizabeth felt that she could never more fear an event, as the evening had turned the tide, and everything had turned out so differently than she had expected.

* * *

Mr. Bennet made his offer to Mr. Collins.

Mr. Dunton had traveled up from London and had advised him in person about the three livings that were to be proposed and how to make the offer to Mr. Collins. He waited in Longbourn's library.

Mr. Collins was in a jovial mood and on his second cup of tea as he sat in front of a nervous Mr. Bennet as they sat in Mr. Bennet's study.

"Mr. Collins, you wished for me to help you with your current circumstances," he began, "that though you had been ordained almost a year ago you have yet to find a living and wished for my help in this regard."

"Yes, Mr. Bennet. I know you will, as a Christian man and as my master and cousin, help me out."

Mr. Bennet frowned at the interruption. "Yes, well, you must understand that the entail must impact my _immediate_ family's circumstances since I have daughters and no sons. And if I had sons, then you would not be a situation to be inheriting Longbourn. In fact, you come to it as the son of _daughter_," and he emphasized the word to the man who sat across from him still wearing a broad smile, "who was herself cut off from inheriting it by her father."

"But I am a son, and gentleman," interjected Mr. Collins.

"Please let continue," Mr. Bennet had little stomach for this type of discourse and wished it could have been left to Mr. Dunton to make the offer, but the attorney had felt that it would be more readily heard by Mr. Collins' 'master' than by a stranger.

"I am proposing to purchase you the best living I have in my power to give you, plus pay you an annuity of forty pounds per annum for your lifetime, if you will agree to amend the entail so that daughters may inherit and allow my children, who have grown up at Longbourn and love it with all their heart, to benefit from their father's inheritance. I have three different livings to propose to you to consider."

Mr. Collins held his tea cup and stared at his master. Words failed him for only a few seconds.

"I was born to be a gentleman. It was all my father ever spoke to me of, especially after I lost my dear mother—it was to be my inheritance from her—my promise. I will not, cannot agree. How can you propose such a thing to me? The Christian thing to do would be to purchase me a living as your heir! It is the right thing to do," he argued vehemently.

Mr. Bennet had hoped for some reasonableness from Mr. Collins, but realized that was not to be. "Mr. Collins, nothing is certain. Our time in this world is never guaranteed and you may predecease me, the young can die as well as the old. One of my daughters may marry, and my grandson becomes my heir. You had truly best think of your circumstances now and how you are to live." He pulled his glasses off to rub his nose. "I plan to live many more years. I have daughters to marry off, and grandchildren I need to see before I plan to leave this world."

"I am in the best of health, I thank you! I cannot believe that you will not help me out of my circumstances. I have been making plans to lease a new house, and recently placed some new orders with tradesmen in Meryton. How am I to meet these obligations?" He sat stiffly, but pursed his lips as spoke.

"Mr. Collins, you are a gentleman, as you said. Gentlemen meet their obligations." He looked him sharply in the eyes with his best fatherly stare and Mr. Collins shifted in his seat.

The clergyman left and Mr. Bennet met with the attorney to discuss their next steps, which principally meant that they needed to pursue the courts since Mr. Collins would not agree to the amendment.

* * *

The group in London was making plans to see in the New Year by attending a private party at Darcy's uncle's house which had been the most anticipated event in the past two months by their group. Emotions were clearing, especially on Bingley's side, as he made some plans to visit relatives and then to return to Netherfield in the spring.

Georgiana had been able to pick up on conversations between her brother and Mr. Bingley about a certain lady in Hertfordshire, a Miss Bennet, that Mr. Bingley held in high regard, and she realized he must be quite in love with her. She doubted her own ability to judge the matter thoroughly though, because of her own misfortunes. It made her sad that this clouded her ability to share in another's joy at his ability to love, and possibly to be loved. She was shy enough in company, but to find herself being more self-conscious because someone felt happiness at the prospect of love almost gave her physical pain.

Mrs. Annesley noticed her quieter aspect after the Christmas celebrations were over, but her companion did not comment about them. Mrs. Annesley was not a confessor, but knew when Georgiana needed time to work through her thoughts before she could talk.

Mr. Darcy received a letter from his cousin soon after Christmas. Colonel Fitzwilliam detailed that there was still no information on Mr. Wickham's whereabouts. The Colonel then went on to discuss a particularly delightful party he had attended at Longbourn and the pleasurable company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet that evening.

Darcy did not know what to make of the reference.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The New Year came. A rainy January gave way to a torrentially wet February. The Longbourn family looked back fondly on the many parties during the fall and Christmas seasons, for even visits to nearby neighbors were not possible some days as the heavens seemed to have opened up to pour the contents of entire seas on most of England. A short visit to Bath to see her family had to be postponed as some roads were declared unsafe for travel, so Catherine Parks and Elizabeth stayed at Longbourn, and indoors, far more than to their liking.

Work on the school kept her occupied. An advertisement for a schoolmaster was placed and answered. Candidates were interviewed by letter, and finally one man, a Mr. John Hobson, was determined to be the best fit. He traveled from London, was interviewed by Mr. Bennet, had an informal interview over tea with Elizabeth and offered the post.

Mr. Hobson took up residence at the _Horse & Groom_ until he could find more permanent lodgings. As the militia was still in town, lodgings were, perhaps, harder to come by. The inclement weather also meant that the school opening was delayed, as it was difficult for the children to attend when it required them to travel in such harsh conditions.

Few on the Longbourn estate were happy. Lydia practically howled at the lack of society and officers, and her sisters often sought out a different parlor when the afternoons stretched on too long, and Lydia could not keep her opinions to herself. Mrs. Bennet feared she would never see any of her daughters married since the weather discouraged most of the gentlemen. The idea of war with Napoleon was also much discussed amongst the gentlemen, though she only half listened, as it seemed that both the men of the militia and of the regulars had more on their minds than entertaining matrimony to one of her daughters.

Catherine, Elizabeth and Jane were melancholy, each in thoughts of a specific gentleman, but by a mutual agreement, never-the-more discussed the objects of their regard amongst themselves. Kitty found employment in being of use where she was needed, and was the happiest of the lot.

Mr. Bennet fretted over the business of the entail, and the stupidity and stubbornness of his cousin. Word had reached him of Meryton merchants now being concerned about the state of the former Mr. Cauldwell, now Mr. Collins' finances. His relation to the Longbourn family had become common knowledge, apparently put about by himself and Mr. Brunton, and now these merchants were reaching out to Mr. Bennet for payment of Mr. Collins' bills.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam visited his cousin in early February. A man on horseback might traverse muddy roads on which a carriage with wheels would get stuck. His cousins welcomed him warmly. Their small party had become even smaller as Mr. Bingley had left for the North to visit relatives right after the New Year, intending to then return to Netherfield. The weather and the state of the roads had meant that he had not been able to attempt the return journey. His sister, Miss Bingley, had accompanied him, and so they were likely to be away for some time, having traveled by carriage.

It was a merry party at supper as the three cousins discussed the news. The gentlemen tried, with some difficulty, to keep from discussing politics and news from the continent. Georgiana listened intently as her brother and her beloved cousin talked with such warmth, affection and ease.

They lingered over the last course, the gentlemen sipping yet another glass of wine.

"I wrote to you about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, cousin," began the Colonel. "She is the most entrancing woman I have met in a long time. I believe you met her when you were in Hertfordshire." Georgiana felt like the candle flames dimmed all at once, which did not seem possible. She looked over at her brother, whose face looked stern—that stern guardian look when he was going to lecture her—no longer the warm, laughing childhood playmate of cousin Richard.

"I have had the privilege of meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet on many occasions. She is a most entrancing woman, I agree," replied her brother.

"Did you know that she has single-handedly founded a day school for children of the poor in Meryton? Can you imagine any society lady deigning to do such a thing? Imagine my sister even considering such an undertaking! There is much to be admired in a woman like that." The Colonel smiled and sipped his wine, immune to the effects of his words on his audience. "True, there is something impertinent about a lady doing such a thing, but it makes one admire her, the impertinence." He seemed to come to himself and realize he was speaking in front of Georgiana as well.

"Perhaps we ought to split up tonight?" Darcy asked in an even voice looking at his cousin. There was something that caught the Colonel's attention and he nodded. Georgiana did not wish to go join Mrs. Annesley and said so, but her guardians overruled her and headed off to the study with their glasses.

She headed up the stairs to join her companion, who had not joined their supper party as she wished to give the family some time alone together. Georgiana's steps were slow and deliberate as she thought about the discussion at the table, and the turn of the conversation. She knew all about Miss Jane Bennet of Hertfordshire, and Mr. Bingley's great regard for her. But there was another sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was known to her brother—he said he had met her on many occasions—and whom he found entrancing.

In the days and weeks since Mr. Bingley had quit the Darcy house in London, the gray atmosphere had not been entirely removed. Georgiana had not been able to attribute this to anything in particular and supposed that her brother was missing the company of his friend. It had made her feel somewhat inadequate that she could not make up the difference in his society.

But her brother's remark was extraordinary. To mention that a lady was 'entrancing,' was absolutely unprecedented. Never before had he mentioned any woman, unless it was to complain about unwanted attentions because of some society mamma. Darcy had spoken little of his visit with Mr. Bingley to Hertfordshire, and most of it had centered on the angelic Miss Jane Bennet.

Mrs. Annesley was surprised to see Georgiana. The young woman explained that the gentlemen wished to enjoy their port, and so she was returning to her suite of rooms. They rang for coffee.

* * *

Mr. Bennet called on Mr. Collins at Mr. Brunton's house. Mr. Collins had, thankfully, not decided to seek lodgings of his own, but continued to live under Mr. Brunton's roof. Mr. Bennet was shown into a parlor and awaited his cousin.

Mr. Collins arrived and spoke all the usual greetings. His appearance had changed; the skin on his cheeks seemed to hang more and there was a darkness under his eyes as if the troubles in his life were taking a toll on his body. His belly had not diminished, however.

Mr. Bennet was invited to sit down, but remained standing since his was a business call.

"Mr. Collins, it has been eight weeks since my offer to you. I am here to reiterate my offer to find you a suitable living and to offer you an annuity for life in return for changing the Longbourn entail back to its original language, so that all heirs may inherit, not just male heirs." He paused, but his usually verbose cousin did not use the opportunity to speak. "I have here four different demands for payment from Meryton creditors who have discovered that I am your master since it has become known that you are no longer Mr. Cauldwell, but Mr. Collins, Esq., and attached to Longbourn." Again he employed his sternest father gaze.

Mr. Collins looked down at his feet. "Mr. Brunton has been talking at the _Horse & Groom_. Mr. Worthing called on me to joke about it the next day."

"That does not account for how the bills came to be charged to Mr. Collins of Bendish Lane, Meryton."

"I did sign for them in my own name, but only after Mr. Brunton had been talking. I must be seen to live like a gentleman," it was a childish wail. He sat down suddenly, his face white. His hand clasped the arm of the chair tightly as he stared off across the room.

Mr. Bennet looked at this conflicted young man, who was unfortunately his relation as well.

"Mr. Bennet, I am near destitute. I have been spending the principal of the money that my father has left me. It is not that my investments are not doing well; it is that there is no money invested. There is practically no money left."

"So why not take up my offer Mr. Collins? Mr. Dunton feels that we can purchase you a living of 150 to 200 pounds a year, plus I am offering you an annuity of 40 pounds a year. That is surely something? Consider, I was ready to offer you 15/6 to be a schoolmaster."

"But I am to be a gentleman!" He continued to stare at the far wall.

Mr. Bennet rang for the servant, and after suggesting a pot of tea be brought for Mr. Collins, he took his leave.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam left the next day to call on his parents. Over tea, Georgiana studied her brother and tried to discern any signs of love. It was a difficult task; her brother was normally guarded about his emotions and it not a topic that they had ever discussed.

"You have not ever talked about your trip to Hertfordshire," she began, "how was your visit?"

"It was a county visit." He sipped his tea and offered no more.

"Derbyshire is the country, was it much like our beloved county? How was the society?"

"The same sorts of parties and engagements one would find anywhere."

"I was inquiring about the people, Mr. Bingley talks about Miss Jane Bennet, but our cousin mentioned a sister, Miss Elizabeth." She paused as he looked over his tea cup at her with surprise, "Is she pretty?"

Thoughts of a face that lit up when she smiled, the curve of her neck as she leaned over the keys to play, the way she held herself in a room rushed him; her face in the rain.

"Yes, she is lovely," he smiled slightly.

"Do you admire her, brother?" Georgiana's heart was beating uncontrollably as it was the most daring question she had ever asked him.

"Yes." His gaze was not on any part of the afternoon parlor in Darcy house, but somewhere else.

With her still pounding heart, she ventured on "are you considering pursuing her?"

"You cannot know what you are asking me, Georgiana, it is not a simple question and there is not a simple answer for it."

"Is she so wrong a choice for you brother?" He did not answer. He thought of his conversation with his cousin the previous night. The companion of his youth, bound by blood, close friends and companions even as adults; Colonel Fitzwilliam was the nearest friend he had outside of Bingley, and that had been tested the previous evening when Darcy had seen him with the eyes of a jealous rival over the affections of Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy had to discuss Miss Bennet coolly with Colonel Fitzwilliam when he wanted to act like Mr. Bingley and respond with spirit and passion about the impertinent Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

It was an evening of strategy, to which the Colonel was the master, but Darcy had the strength of his regard. Colonel Fitzwilliam was also bound by all the same bonds, and not having known the lady as long or being so far gone in terms of his regards, he conceded the battle to his cousin. Darcy was left to reflect on his victory; it was not a night given for much sleep.

"I do not wish to consider the matter."

"You cannot know what you are possibly giving up unless you take the time to consider the matter thoroughly, Fitzwilliam."

But what he had to say, or not to say about Elizabeth Bennet, could not be spoken aloud. And not to his sister.

* * *

The roads dried up enough that the delayed trip to Bath to visit Mr. Parks and Marguerite could be attempted. The time for their trip to the Lakes was to occur at Easter, and Mrs. Gardiner wrote, suggesting that given the delayed Bath trip that their little trip commence from there, without bothering to return to Hertfordshire.

After nearly a week of dry weather, Mr. Hobson was able to hold the first classes at the Mary Bennet Memorial Day School. The next day, Catherine Parks and Elizabeth road off on their journey to Bath to spend four weeks in the elegant townhouse that Mr. Parks had leased.

Elizabeth was sad to be parted from her father, who was more withdrawn about the issues of the entail than he had been in the fall. He had not shared his second attempt at an offer to Mr. Collins with her, and so she could only guess, though rightly, at the reasons for his general malaise.

They left Lydia lamenting on Mr. Worthing's unfaithfulness, as he was paying marked attentions to Miss King who had inherited ten thousand a year from her uncle. The Harrington sisters were frequent visitors and witnesses to her recent vehemence and protestations against the ensign, and in some respects, Elizabeth was glad to be getting away from the absurdity of such talk. Harriet and Penelope appeared to follow Lydia around like chicks follow a mother hen. The three girls were also frequent visitors to Colonel Forster's new wife, with whom Lydia had apparently become an intimate friend.

Kitty was sad to see Elizabeth go and gave her a long hug. Mrs. Bennet seemed equally melancholy at Elizabeth's leaving, as if reliving all the remembrances of the scarlet fever from the previous years.

Jane kept busy as best she could. She had never let up on the idea of her happiness depending on a single person, and having fallen in love for the first time at the _old_ age of one and twenty, could not but still entertain the idea that it might still work out.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

It poured in Bath. The cobbled streets at least afforded some measure of protection for Elizabeth and Catherine if they wished to escape the confines of the Parks' townhome and pursue some exercise, paved roads meant no mud. Mr. Parks grumbled about their frequent forays into town, as he would not permit them to walk into the town without a footman in attendance, which left one less servant at home, though he also expressed concern about their health.

The two friends knew all the sites and places to visit—and the places to avoid—from their stay the previous spring. Catherine was not fond of the shops, as they seemed to be full of fashionable people who only went to be seen by other fashionable people, not necessarily to shop. Elizabeth had previously enjoyed being able to walk to sites and parks, and did not like the winding jumble of streets that was the city proper; where their walks were mostly limited to at Mr. Parks' request. So with the continual rain, neither friend was particularly happy.

Miss Bingley had more than once remarked that Miss Catherine Parks was 'other-worldly.' Perhaps Miss Bingley was correct, and she was, thought Catherine. She had not grown up in Herfordshire, and no matter how much she loved Elizabeth and had grown to love her family, Catherine realized that she still did not truly fit there. And with this return to her family, though this was not St. Gregory's Abbas, the family estate, she realized that she had not missed her family, nor did she feel a part of their lives in Bath. Her father moved in the circles of people who enjoyed the life that could be had in Bath: people of fashion who spent a great amount of time in the pursuit of entertainment and fine society.

In following Elizabeth to Longbourn she had thought she was finding a family. This was not exactly what she had found. It was hard to ascribe her feelings of distance because of her character, or because of the experiences of her illness. But she did not regret the friendship at all, it gave her more comfort and companionship than she found from her father and sister. Thoughts of Dr. Markham remained buried, to be indulged in late at night when her father, sister or friend did not require her attention.

Mr. Bennet had not been amenable to the idea of a visit to Kent. Catherine knew that he was pursuing issues related to the Longbourn entail; it was difficult in a family setting to keep subjects a secret. He had never been one for leaving his books and his library, so the idea of a trip to Kent had not been one to which he would agree, no matter how hard Elizabeth had tried to persuade him. A sense of melancholy fell over her as the rain continued for the first weeks of their stay and she found Elizabeth a distracted companion.

Restrained from her usual daily exercise, Elizabeth was broody. A pair of eyes hovered before her as she sat in the white morning parlor of the Parks' residence. The parlor had tall ceilings and a beautiful parquet marble floor with stiff, blue horsehair sofas and chairs that did not encourage intimacy, but did encourage good posture. The pair of eyes did not belong to anyone in the room, but to a tall gentleman Elizabeth had not seen in many months. She recalled the depth of their expression, especially the humor, as he had teased her about the habits of woodland sprites.

A week away from her family and she was not missing them at all, but the distance from home had somehow made her more acutely aware of the estimable Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth had tried to be unconcerned and indifferent about her feelings for Mr. Darcy, but thoughts and images of him would intrude: his compassion in helping her to found the school, and motivating her reticent father; the liberality and generosity that must be attendant on a man with such a position as his. Even the people in Meryton had acknowledged as much, and her Aunt Gardiner had confirmed that both the past and present masters of Pemberley had always been known as liberal-minded, just and sincere. He was a pleasing, even witty conversationalist when the discourse was of interest, and did not want in his abilities.

To be valued by such a man had to excite something within her. Knowing he valued her, for Catherine had acknowledged what Elizabeth finally was able to admit, those little glances, to always know in what part of the room he was, even if they had not spoken; love was respect and estimation of another, but it was also some little spark in her chest, a connection with an other.

Sometimes she was angry with him, for if he truly esteemed her, then why was he so reticent to show her his feelings? Mr. Bingley had no trouble in that regard, and Mr. Darcy could certainly learn from him in that quarter. His initial conduct in Meryton had not been aimed to pleased, and she had to fault him there, but as she grown in her estimation for him she had learned his character must excite respect and she could forgive him.

And there was the thunderstorm to consider, and their little adventure from the copse in the woods to Netherfield Hall. To remember it now, to think back about it, was like remembering a story. His hands on her as he helped her after her fall, right as they had reached Netherfield. His breath in her ear as he spoke to her, his dark gaze on hers as he searched her face to make sure she was uninjured. She blushed as remembered that he lifted her in his arms to help her to stand.

"Elizabeth, are you well, you seem flushed," said a voice that broke into her thoughts. Marguerite Parks inquired from the other sofa. Miss Parks always shouted a little, as if Elizabeth was truly deaf.

"I am perhaps a little tired," answered an embarrassed Elizabeth, "I may, perhaps, go lie down."

Catherine looked up. "I will rest as well."

"You two young ladies had best stay indoors, and quit this walking nonsense," Mr. Parks declared, though he did not look up from his book.

When they had reached the safety of their room, and sat resting on their bed, Catherine clasped Elizabeth's hands. "Where is your mind, dearest? You were blushing; I wonder that Marguerite did assume you were thinking of some young suitor and want the details."

"I think I am in love with Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth gazed at her friend, ready for her response.

"This is old news," smiled Catherine, her eyes twinkling with delight.

"Catherine!" and Elizabeth blushed, pulling her hands free to cover her eyes.

"I have long suspected that you had a strong partiality for the gentleman, as he has for you, but has it truly taken this long for you to figure it out?"

Elizabeth lowered her hands. "I have been so busy with the school, and helping Papa and worrying about Jane, that I have not had time to think," here she was interrupted by her friend.

"One does not _think_ about love, one _feels_ love, Lizzy."

"I find you are teasing me, when I have only just stumbled upon something wonderful and magnificent!"

"I will be quiet now and let you talk; though you have been a poor friend and do not often let me wax on about my love," teased Catherine.

"Catherine!" Exclaimed her friend again, and she clasped her into her a hug.

"I apologize; you have been a good friend, Elizabeth Bennet. Had I needed to talk about the dear doctor, I would have awakened you in the middle of the night. But we were talking of your new-found treasure."

"I do not believe I would have figured it out without having come away from home. I find I am not missing my family, but I am missing Mr. Darcy." She looked out the window without much hope for a change in the weather.

"I sit in that austere white parlor—forgive me if I do not care for your father or your sister's tastes-and my mind wanders and I find myself considering what Mr. Darcy is doing, where is he? Is he still in London or has he returned to his estate in Pemberley? What is the room like that he is in? What is he wearing? Does he think of me? Am I still dear to him?"

"I am sure you are still a treasure to him, my dear."

"I do not know if I will ever see him again," and Elizabeth turned to look at her friend with a new-found sympathy.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam returned to Stevenage. He honored his promise to his cousin to not pursue the enigmatic and impertinent Miss Elizabeth Bennet, though he felt that Darcy appeared helpless in determining his own course of action as to Miss Bennet.

He had discovered a side to his childhood friend and confidant that he had never seen that evening. While both had been born to privilege, and most people would have envied the Colonel his position as the son of an Earl, the estate of Pemberley was a magnificence to behold; Richard Fitzwilliam had always preferred it to his own family's holding. What was a title to thousands more acres of land and the elegant mansion that nestled at its heart? And to have a compassionate, and impertinent lady by your side to run it? He envied his cousin Darcy, especially as he sat in his study and read through dispatches from the War Office on the state of the situation on the continent. Having served in Egypt, Colonel Fitzwilliam could not look forward to an end of the peace, and a return to hostilities with France.

That unlucky evening when he had mentioned Miss Elizabeth to his cousin, he had been heartily surprised by Darcy. Despite the warmth of the wine, and the company, he had awakened to realize that the conversation was turning to one that should not be discussed in front of Georgiana as he looked at the austere face of Darcy across from him.

A tentative dialogue had then occurred, as one was always careful in discussing a gentleman's daughter, about the nature of both of their regard for her. Fitzwilliam had never heard Darcy express a warm opinion about a lady before. As Bingley's friend he was always ready to admire women, and could discuss their beauty in much detail: Darcy preferred dark eyes while Bingley had a preference for blue-eyed ladies, but the cousins so often found amusement in how quickly Bingley fell in and out of love. The two cousin's idea of matrimony had been of business, economics or for family honor. For Fitzwilliam was only ever going to marry an heiress, and Darcy was putting off marrying as long as he could before succumbing to the need to produce an heir for Pemberley.

Of course, Egypt had changed Fitzwilliam's outlook. The men on either side of him dying and Richard left standing was a lesson to be taken to heart. He had returned to England with a new pair of eyes with which to see the world, and been bewitched by a dark pair—Darcy was correct that the dark eyes were more entrancing—and then found that there was a battle to be fought, even in England. The Colonel wondered if he would have been lucky to have secured the lady's hand if he had not been so honest as to mention the matter before Darcy.

The two had discussed the strength of their regard, Darcy had known her longer, but Richard felt the call to action sooner. A man far too familiar with battle strategy and tactics, Fitzwilliam had conceded the battle when his cousin described the two of them being caught in a thunderstorm, of her tripping, and falling, and hurting herself. "I held her in my arms, Richard while I helped her to her feet, and peered into her eyes. I have never had any event so captivate my life, or touch my soul. I have not been able to shake the memory though it has been almost a hundred days since."

Colonel Fitzwilliam sat in a chilly study with his scotch and listened to the rain fall outside. The future for him held no impertinent lady with her hand clasped in his, only the possibility of war on the continent.

* * *

Darcy lamented the few words he had received from Bingley since his leaving London. The mail coach was having a difficult time trespassing roads as a lot of roads remained impassible, so the journey was not one to attempt for a private carriage, especially for a lady, so Mr. Bingley and his sister were to remain with their relatives a little while longer. This complicated Darcy's planned return to Meryton, as he meant to wait for his friend and visit there together, and stay at Netherfield.

Georgiana was not able to return to Derbyshire and Pemberley, and Darcy's plans to visit their Aunt Catherine for Easter were then enlarged to include her in the trip.

After that afternoon disclosure, Georgiana had not been brave enough to bring up the topic of Elizabeth Bennet. It hung between them, which made Darcy feel distant, when nothing before had caused a rift between the brother and sister. He could feel her eyes on him at times when she assumed he was not aware that she staring, as if she was ascertaining the depths of his feelings. He knew he could no longer hide how he felt—those days had passed—but he still could not discuss the matter with his sister, a sister who was almost ten years his junior. At times, Darcy wished she and Mrs. Annesley might return to Pemberley, and leave him to his pursuits.

The Colonel was a master of strategy and tactics; Darcy was not, so he had no approach as to the pursuit of the object of his affections, other than returning to Hertfordshire under the guise of being Bingley's friend, not as lover of Elizabeth Bennet. He felt inclined to sit and wait until the weather improved, and his friend was able to return.

Time in town, and around people of fashion had brought to mind there was an equal amount of absurdity in people of rank as there was in others considered of lower rank. He also looked on with a much more critical eye on the pursuits of people of fashion and found so many wanting when compared to the poorer, but by no means less respectable Miss Bennet. Her heart and generosity were enormous, and to have her as Mistress of Pemberley would be to find a rare gem indeed. His weeks in town as he waited for his friend made him grow in his confidence of the suitability of such a match, despite his earlier reservations.

The role of lover would be a new one to play, and one for which he had no context and no one to whom he could turn to for advice. All avenues, in essence, were closed. A more natural instinct was going to have to be relied upon in this case.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The first week in March, a letter arrived from Aunt Gardiner which both disappointed and pleased. The rain was still affecting the roads, and the Gardiners felt that their plans needed to be modified—in fact that the trip to the north had to be cancelled entirely—and that a scheme of a visit to Kent was now proposed. The improved roads in the area, the general weather in that county, and the nearness to London and Herfordshire, all meant that if they needed to make any changes in their plans as they partook of the beauties of Kent, they would be able to do so and Mr. Gardiner return to his business. Business was doing well, but with the discussion of political events, he wanted to be near at hand least things turn for the worse with France.

Miss Parks felt as though a treasure map had been dropped from the heavens into her lap, and contemplated with earnest delight the proposed trip. Aunt Gardiner was not ignorant of their desire to re-visit the scene of their recovery, and so, a trip to Addington to visit Priestwood Green Sanitarium had been included in the scheme along with the delights of castles, abbeys, stately homes and cathedrals.

Elizabeth, who had been looking forward to her trip north, took a day to switch to contemplating the delights of Kent from the beauties of the Lake District. A part of Lizzy had wondered at the possibility of seeing Pemberley, for the original scheme to the north had included a trip to Derbyshire to visit Aunt Gardiner's former home; and Lizzy had contemplated, accidental meetings with the owner of Pemberley on its grounds, and being invited in as an honored guest, possibly to meet his sister. It had been a day dream to weave as she sat through far too many rainy mornings waiting for fashionable callers at the Parks' residence.

Two other letters arrived from Longbourn. The letter from Mr. Bennet was short. He indicated that he was going to talk to Mr. Collins one more time about amending the entail, but failing that, have Mr. Dunton file the paperwork with the court which would begin the process of challenging the entail. He did not mention his second, odd encounter with Mr. Collins. He only added a note that he was missing both her and Miss Parks.

The other letter was from Lydia. Lizzy tried to recall when she had last received a letter from Lydia, but failing to put an exact date, estimated that she had received at least one from her youngest sister while she was recovering from the scarlet fever at the sanitarium.

There was news of Amy Goulding's wedding dress, and the other new gowns that formed her wedding clothes, which had been on display in one of the Goulding family parlors. Lydia discussed the trim on one in much detail, begging Elizabeth to see if she could match it at any of the shops in Bath, or baring that, when she took her trip with the Gardiners, to try to find during their travels.

She chatted at great length about her new friendship with Colonel Forster's wife. It was obvious that she took a great deal of pride in this elevation of status as the next paragraphs in her letter discussed the jealousy that she perceived from Maria Lucas, and Penelope and Harriet Harrington over being such a favorite with the Colonel's wife. Lizzy could see her younger sister strutting before her friends in her new glory.

Apparently Mr. Bennet thought Mrs. Forster a sensible lady, as he had allowed Lydia some measure of freedom in society: she could attend public functions, was allowed to dance with officers, and to stay out later than usual. Elizabeth frowned as she read this, wondering that the very young Mrs. Forster, who was younger than Lizzy, was a sensible young lady if she and Lydia found each other such close associates.

There was gossip to impart, both the difficult, as Mr. Worthing continued to disregard her, and the amusing, as his interest in Miss King had been foiled by Captain Yelverton, Jane's former beau—Lizzy had to laugh aloud at the remark—who had proposed to the be-freckled Miss King and been accepted! Lydia lamented Jane's having lost the affections of the Captain, but declared that Jane was always too serious, and that it was Jane's fault for not pursuing him more earnestly.

While she related a number of handsome young officers in her letter, they all appeared inter-changeable and Lizzy recalled that Lydia had once said she wanted to have her fun first, and had to trust that being a flirt was a phase that Lydia needed to purge from her system.

In bold letters, Lydia ended her note stating that John Lucas had come to call on the family several times recently. 'He is in love with Kitty!' she wrote with a double underline and many exclamation points. Lizzy wondered what was going on between John Lucas and Kitty. Her next youngest sister had never mentioned a partiality before, having declared a desire to never marry, so this new partiality must be on John's side, if it was not made up entirely on Lydia's.

She wished for news of the school, but would need to wait for Jane or Kitty's next letter to hear about that. And perhaps news from Kitty on any new feelings of regard for John Lucas, if what Lydia related was true.

There was also no news at all of Mrs. Bennet, and Elizabeth felt a little twinge that neither of the authors of the letters had thought to mention her mother.

* * *

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy thought about Shakespeare as he watched the rain fall through a drawing room window. It had cleared for many days, and he had been in the hopes of its improving enough for his friend to be able to return. There had been no letter from Bingley in over two weeks.

Darcy contemplated Hamlet: an overly analytical, indecisive, even proud young man, whose actions were often rash and careless and who then made decisions suddenly, after long periods of reflection.

The parallels between this character of fiction and himself were hard not to contemplate, and he recalled another long, wet afternoon while at university, in a discussion with a tutor, about fatal flaws and wondered if he was following the same path towards some tragic end because of his inability to openly woo Elizabeth Bennet.

A head peered around the door, which he had not noted opening.

"Fitzwilliam?" called Georgiana.

He looked away from the window and smiled. She entered, walking up to him and placed a small hand on his arm, and they both looked out at the rain.

"Are we really to go to Aunt Catherine's for Easter?"

"Yes, I fear the roads are still not passible for a carriage to return north and take you home to Pemberley."

"I still cannot get over being intimidated by Aunt Catherine," she dropped her hand, "and Anne never says much."

"That is why I have always made the visit by myself each spring, but we shall only stay two weeks this year, not three. Richard cannot get away for so long."

The siblings contemplated the rain in silence for many moments.

"Georgiana, I want to return to Hertfordshire first, before we go to Kent." His gaze was still on the storm outside.

She did not reply, but waited for him to speak again.

"We can hope that the weather improves," he pulled his gaze inside, and looked down at her with a wry smile, "but I believe you would like to see the countryside."

"Where shall we stay?"

"I believe we can stay on Bingley's estate: Netherfield. I have been waiting for word from him that the roads are passable, but no matter; Mrs. Owing can open up a few rooms for us. I cannot stay here and be inactive for a day longer." He turned away from the window, his sister and the rain.

"I shall like to travel some place new. I am not such a fearful creature that I do not like to visit new places and meet new people, if they are kind. And it seems to me that you had a most pleasant visit when you were there in the fall."

He turned to look back at her. "It has a special place for me," he hesitated as he realized what he had said, "we can visit Richard as well, and then take him with us when it comes time to go to Kent."

"I shall like to visit any place that is special to you." She approached him.

"She lives there, Georgiana, in Hertfordshire. She grew up there, it formed her."

"Miss Elizabeth?"

"Yes."

"Won't you tell me about her?"

"She has the most beautiful eyes," he began, "and her compassion for others knows no bounds. When no one else would visit the poor, because there was scarlet fever in the area, _she_ would still go and bring comfort." And so, slowly, he told his sister about Elizabeth Bennet.

Georgiana was entranced and felt like she was listening to a fairy story read to her by a governess, the way her brother wove his hesitant tale of an extraordinary woman who seemed far too accomplished and, in a way, almost more intimidating than her aunt. But based on the strength of his regard for her, which she could feel as he related his story, she could not help but consider Miss Elizabeth Bennet as anything other than lovely and amiable.

* * *

It was still five days before they could be packed and ready, with letters dispatched to Netherfield warning of their coming, letters to Bingley begging forgiveness for the effrontery to presume he could stay at Netherfield, but also wishing for Bingley and Miss Bingley to meet them in Meryton, if possible.

Darcy also wrote to his cousin warning Colonel Fitzwilliam of their coming. Their correspondence had been light since Fitzwilliam had left London, and Darcy had known that it was because of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Only two of the intervening five days had been rainy days, and some signs of spring were apparent in small buds at the ends of tree branches and shoots of new green growth standing tall amidst sodden, brown grass. Their trip was uneventful, and Mr. Bingley's housekeeper, Mrs. Owing, met them cheerfully, exclaiming excitedly at the introduction to Miss Darcy. If she felt any misgivings at the presumption of Mr. Darcy to stay at his friend's country estate, she did not show it.

The day after their arrival, Darcy set out for Longbourn.

The weather was fair, though a lingering dampness still lay about the air and left a chill. As he rode up the drive of Longbourn estate, he felt that his heart might leap through his chest and run off on its own.

Darcy was shown into the morning parlor and greeted by a startled Mrs. Bennet though Miss Bennet was perfectly at ease. They were the only two women in the room. He performed his most gracious bow. "Good morning Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet. I hope you are both well, that the whole family is well."

She replied in the affirmative and invited him to sit down. He had normally thought of her as a chatty woman, but she seemed to be looking at him as if expecting him to maintain the conversation. Mrs. Bennet had always been in awe of Mr. Darcy, so they sat in silence for many minutes before she finally broke it.

"Mr. Bennet is in his study with his solicitor this morning. The other girls are upstairs, but they should be down soon."

"Well, I am sorry to miss him," he replied politely with a little nod.

"Would you like some tea, Mr. Darcy?" asked Jane indicating the pot.

He accepted a cup and the three of them sat in silence again for a few minutes.

Mrs. Bennet finally asked about his reasons for visiting Meryton, and Mr. Darcy faltered. Not wishing to reveal his true reason for being at Longbourn, he looked about the room quickly and wondered at the absence of Elizabeth Bennet.

"I am to meet Mr. Bingley here as he journeys from the north," it was a fib, as he was not quite sure that Bingley had even left yet, and he hoped that his face did not betray him, "and my cousin is fixed at Stevenage. We are to visit him there, and then all journey together to Kent to visit our aunt."

Jane Bennet sat up a little straighter on hearing his news. "You mentioned 'we,' is there someone else traveling with you?" she asked.

"Yes, my sister, Georgiana, has come with me." He paused, realizing he must account for her having not come to call at Longbourn as well.

Kitty and Lydia walked in, saving him the justification. He rose to greet them with a bow, and offered some particularly kind words to Kitty.

"Mr. Darcy was just telling us about his sister, who has come to visit Meryton as well," began Jane, "does she play the pianoforte?"

"Yes, very well; it is one of her delights." He acknowledged. Kitty looked very interested. "I should like to introduce her to your family, if I may?"

The Bennet sisters expressed a pleasure at the prospect of meeting Miss Darcy. Mr. Darcy began to grow impatient with Elizabeth's tardiness. "We seem to be short a few people, where are Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Parks this morning?"

"Oh! They have been gone these three or four weeks in Bath, Mr. Darcy, visiting Miss Parks' family," replied Mrs. Bennet as she finished her cup and handed it to Jane to refill.

Darcy paused as he was sipping his tea as Mrs. Bennet's words settled in, with the realization that five days of preparation to come, and all the awkwardness of imposing on Mr. Bingley had been for naught. A numbness began to creep through his limbs.

"She, they are not here?" He put down his tea cup. Miss Bennet caught his tone and looked at him. Kitty looked at him with a furrowed brow.

Lydia seemed nonplussed. "They must be so lucky to be in such an amusing town! I quite envy the pair of them. The regulars are to be moving on soon, after Easter, and there has been news amongst the officers that they might be moving as well," she rambled, "and I shall be quite upset, to be sure, if they all do leave. Life will be quite dull around here!"

Darcy could barely attend to the conversation. His heart, which had initially threatened to escape from his chest, now felt like it had been squeezed and compressed to the size of pebble. He could only think of how to best extract himself from the morning parlor at Longbourn and return to Netherfield.

He said his goodbyes as politely as he could, collected the horse from an awaiting servant, and set off back down the drive. His thoughts seemed to escape him, and he had no analogy or past experience on which to draw and plan upon. He soon reached the outskirts of Meryton and slowed as the morning foot traffic was abundant.

Spying the Horse & Groom, he alighted, tied his horse and entered the saloon bar, a very uncharacteristic move. He felt uncertain of his own motives, whether he was being rash in his actions or forging new territory by them.

The interior was dark and lit by two windows that did not let in much light; the owner had not bothered to light any lamps or candles. There were a fair number of men inside already, and Darcy paused as he scanned the tables realizing he must be out of place given the other clientele. A barman waved him towards a table, and he nodded in return, somehow communicating his selection of drink in the process.

His steps took him past a table at which sat an older gentleman with graying, wiry hair that was worn long and had an old fashioned set to it. His companion had his back to Darcy, but the set of the shoulders was familiar, and Darcy stopped short as he paused at the table and looked into Wickham's face as he sipped a pint of ale.

"Wickham!"

The man in question looked up with a startled expression, as the older man looked from Darcy's face to his companion's. "Darcy! Not quite the sort of establishment you would normally frequent, old man." The younger man recovered his composure quickly, and leaned back in his chair.

Having looked for the man for more than half a year, Darcy was not quite sure what to do now that he was faced with him in a public saloon bar. He took in Wickham's appearance; he had removed his coat, but was obviously wearing the colors of his majesty's militia.

"You have joined the militia?"

"Yes, old man."

"Are you recently joined up with the Monmouthshire militia?"

"Oh no, got my commission last summer," he leaned back even more. He was enjoying the discomfort he was eliciting from Darcy, and his smile crept even wider on his handsome face.

"How did I not hear that you were in the area last fall?"

"Don't know." He rubbed his shoulders against his chair, then closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before opening them and looking up at his opponent.

The older man kept watching the two spar with a hooded look to his eyes. He scooted back a little from the table, but it drew Darcy's attention away from Wickham. Darcy could not place the man; his clothes spoke some sort of trade, though he had the air of an unkempt man, who had no wife at home to look after him.

"Do you know Mr. Brunton? He is an attorney here in town," Wickham gestured with a lazy flick of his hand. Mr. Darcy nodded his head briefly at the solicitor.

He stood for a minute longer looking at the two men, unsure of what to do or say. Wickham offered nothing, and his companion sat in silence. They attracted no attention, apparently, from the other imbibers in the Horse & Groom with their exchange. Darcy finally walked on to his table and paid, leaving his ale untouched.

Once outside and away from the hustle and bustle of town, when near the woods, he found his head clearing. His immediate thought was to get Georgiana away from Meryton. He had to get in touch with his cousin as soon as he could and figure out what was to be done about Wickham.

That Wickham had been here in Meryton the whole time had come as such a shock to his system, he felt as though ice was in his veins. Even as he rode past the Old Park Woods, thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet could not warm him as he considered how close Wickham was to his sister and all that she had suffered at his hands.

Once back at Netherfield, he asked the footman who answered the door to meet him in the study. He composed a quick note to Colonel Fitzwilliam, passed it on with instructions to deliver it personally, and saw the footman to the door.

Closing the study door, he stood with his hand on the latch and pondered the situation. He had been so set on finding Wickham and bringing him to some sort of justice that he had not considered what to actually do once he found him. He had not wished to pursue legal action against him for his base actions against Georgiana. Exposing his general profligate character was a minimal requirement. Darcy vowed that he must speak to the militia's commander within the day, and make him understand that underneath the handsome face and charming smile were the actions of a man of extravagance, idleness, vice, even infamy. Once Richard arrived, they could form a clear plan on discussing the matter with Colonel Forster.

The door gave way under his hand, and he had to step back as Georgiana entered, looking puzzled to find him right on the other side.

"Fitzwilliam, you are back! How did your visit go?" Her face had the widest of smiles and it was the first thing that began to warm him since he had left Longbourn, the sight of such a face, with all its anticipation of hearing happiness.

He turned to hide his own, and walked to a chair; his sister followed.

"She is in Bath, visiting friends."

"She is not here?" there was a sorrow in his sister's voice he had never heard, and it echoed something inside him.

"No." he turned to look at her fully, "I think we should return to London, we are not due in Kent for over a week. Richard can meet us at Rosings."

"No, Fitzwilliam, you said you would show me Hertfordshire, and I have been looking forward to seeing it, because it is special to both of you. I do not wish to leave." Her chin stuck out.

"There is nothing more to do here," he argued, looking away from her gaze, "I have lost my flavor for the place. Richard is coming soon, perhaps we can persuade him to come along with us, but again, there is nothing more to do here."

"I really do wish to stay," she began, but they both turned as Mrs. Owing knocked and entered.

The housekeeper curtsied quickly and looked at Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, I thought I should let you know I have just received word that Mr. Bingley is on his way here. He expects to arrive tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: sorry for the delay in getting this written and uploaded. I had to write requirements documents for work this week and both my brain and wrists protested at the idea of writing all day, then writing all evening.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam journeyed to the house of Colonel Forster but found that he was not at home and was, in fact, visiting relatives with his wife. There was some discussion about whether to consult with his next senior officers; Darcy was hesitant to bring the matter before them, preferring to discuss the matter only with Colonel Forster. Colonel Fitzwilliam was not, arguing that a military man must have the obedience and trust of his officers, and won the day.

They arrived at the militia's headquarters in Meryton and found that it was staffed by many officers. The senior officer, Captain Carter, approached the Colonel respectfully.

"We have come to consult with you, as a senior officer because your Colonel is not available," he began and eyed the multitude of men around him. Darcy stood at his side warily. "Our information concerns a man in your ranks, and may be of some delicacy." His words were low, but of such an authoritative tone that the captain nodded and turned.

Captain Carter led them through another room into a small sitting room at the back of the establishment. It barely contained the three men, but afforded the privacy that was needed.

"We have information about a man in your ranks that we felt compelled to pass on to the Colonel," Darcy looked at the captain attempting to ascertain his reaction to his news. Captain Carter was older than either of the two of them, with those classic British good looks. Whether of noble rank or gentry, it was harder to tell.

"He is known to us to be of a profligate nature, has left the regulars because his former life caught up with him there and he incurred many debts, debts of honor, and there are tales of seduction. He is not an honorable man."

"Who is this man, is he an officer, a non-commissioned officer or an enlisted man?"

"His name is George Wickham. When I saw him in the _Horse & Groom_ today, he had taken off his coat, so I could not see his insignia, so I do not know what rank he holds with the militia," explained Darcy.

"I do not know of any George Wickham in our outfit," answered Captain Carter.

Both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam reacted to this with surprise, though the Colonel did not appear completely taken aback by the news.

"I just saw him today, mid-day having a pint with a local man," insisted Darcy. The local's name escaped Darcy's memory as he had been so focused on the encounter with Wickham.

"Has he adopted another name? If he is running from debts and misdeeds, he may well want to hide," suggested the captain.

"It seems that he must have," guessed Colonel Fitzwilliam, as he looked at Darcy, "we had talked about that possibility when we were looking for him in the fall."

"Your second, Captain Yelverton, had come in and made a few inquiries I recall, though we also have discussed many other topics given all that Napoleon is up to," he pursed his lips, his first sign of any emotion, "was he making inquiries about this man back then?"

"Yes he was, I am glad to know he was so discreet," smiled Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"That gets us no nearer to finding this blackguard!" exclaimed Darcy who felt left out of some club.

"We could parade all the soldiers past you," smirked the captain, but then he schooled his face, "but what I need to know are the facts against this man. You must see that I have to let my Colonel know of the arguments you have, and the proofs that will back up these claims you are making; especially if he is an officer, in that case, even more so." He looked particularly at Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Darcy felt frustrated; his word was not to be taken at face value by this officer. For months he had carried around the proofs that he and his cousin had gathered about Wickham's activities, his debts, the tales of wildness, drunkenness, and seductions. And in coming to Hertfordshire, and in planning then to leave for Kent, he had locked them up safely at his home in London. Daracy did not have the bills of receipt for debts signed by Wickham's own hand or the testimonials of others against the character of Wickham to wave in front of the obstinate Captain Carter.

Colonel Fitzwilliam related a timeline of the worst of Wickham's deeds, indicating that they had lost record of him after he had left the regulars the previous year and he appeared to 'have gone to ground.' The captain did not betray any shock at the actions of Wickham. Whether he had seen or heard of such behaviors as were laid at Wickham's charge he gave no indication; his life as a solider was one where a colorful cross-section of men were likely to be encountered.

He only added, "I certainly hope he is not one of the officers."

Darcy and Fitzwilliam returned to Netherfield discussing their next steps. Without the carefully collected proofs, Darcy felt that the militia would not do anything about Wickham, if they could identify him. He was still very frustrated that the captain was not helpful about identifying Wickham amongst the Monmouthshire militia, and at what rank. For Darcy felt that he would have to be an officer, if only an ensign; it would not be in his nature—would not support Wickham's vanity-to be anything less than an officer.

They had to ensure that Georgiana was safe, and decide whether they should tell her that Wickham was in the neighborhood. Darcy felt that she should not be told and must be whisked away, back to London; but the Colonel reasoned that she should have fore-knowledge in case there was a chance encounter, even if it was on the road to London. They argued until supper on the subject, but Darcy gave way. He decided he would return to London for the paperwork about Wickham, and wanted to persuade Georgiana to return with him. The knowledge that Wickham was in the area would be, he felt, a suitable inducement for her to join him.

Georgiana could tell that there was something occupying the minds of both her brother and cousin, but enjoyed their company; she waited for the end of supper for the conversation to turn to serious topics.

"Georgiana," began Darcy, "I am going to return to London for a very quick trip after Bingley and his sister arrive tomorrow. I need to handle some paperwork that cannot wait until we return from Kent."

"I hope your trip is very short; I can stay here at Netherfield, or with Richard, may I?"

"I wondered if you would like to come with me?" He countered.

"It is such a short trip, what reason should I have for coming?" And she frowned at him, feeling uneasy.

He hesitated, and looked at his cousin. "I am afraid, dearest, that I have run into George Wickham and I do not wish for you to be left alone." She did not gasp or blanch, as he expected, but just looked at him as she absorbed what he had said.

"Could I not stay with Richard?" and she looked over at the Colonel who smiled at her and raised his glass.

Darcy had anticipated Georgiana running at the first mention of Wickham. "Are you not frightened at the prospect of him being so near? That he may harm you in any way?"

"No, he cannot harm me now. You see, he needs my permission to do that," she looked from one man to the other, "and that I will never give again."

* * *

Mr. Bennet arrived at the Brunton house after breakfast in a mood that did not anticipate success. The servant who answered the door said that Mr. Collins was not at home, which caught Mr. Bennet from his reverie. He pulled a letter from his pocket and insisted that he had made a specific appointment with Mr. Collins for that particular morning, so Mr. Collins had to be at home and receiving visitors. The servant shut the door and came back many minutes later, opening it with reluctance, and led Mr. Bennet to the morning parlor.

Mr. Collins sat on a sofa with possibly the same unhappy visage that Mr. Bennet sported. His face was thinner yet again and his belly leaner this visit and his elder cousin could not help but think that life in the Brunton household was not good for his health.

They nodded their salutations and this time, Mr. Bennet sat, pulling a chair close to his cousin.

"Mr. Collins, I want to again reiterate my offer to you about the entail. I have to say that you look like your circumstances have not been good." He examined his cousin up close; in former encounters the man gave off an arrogant air, but today, he sat quietly, barely able to catch his visitor's eye.

"Mr. Bennet, … I, … Mr. Bennet, I do not know what to do," and he looked at his cousin with such a helpless look that Mr. Bennet could only pity his ignorant, absurd cousin.

"What is going on Mr. Collins?" he asked with some feeling, "you do not look well, have you consulted anyone?"

"I have not felt well recently, that is true," answered the younger man, "I have not slept well recently."

"Have you consulted Mr. Jones, our town apothecary?" Mr. Bennet asked with some gentleness.

"That would cost money," and he looked at his lap.

"Please sir, I believe you are in need of his assistance, you may ask him to visit this afternoon and have him send me the bill," replied Mr. Bennet, "but please, tell me how are your circumstances?"

"Mr. Brunton thinks this will be short-lived, sir, and that I can weather it."

"What does he have to say about your circumstances?" Mr. Bennet sat up straighter in his chair, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I have let him be my consultant on financial matters, he is an attorney, after all, and is well-versed in all sorts of matters, finances being a specialty, he assured me."

"But if you say 'this will be short-lived,' does that mean things are not going well, financially, for you now?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. Mr. Bennet could see his rheumy eyes look at him with something like shame.

"And it has been worse since you came to live with Mr. Brunton?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Collins, would you care to come for a visit to Longbourn? I am sure my wife would be delighted to have you," Mr. Bennet came to sit next to his cousin. He took in the dark circles and the drooping skin on the neck where his recent weight loss had not been kind to his appearance, "I believe it is time for you to come stay at Longbourn for a little visit."

"Why yes! I have always dreamed of being able to visit Longbourn, thank you." The younger man's whole carriage improved, "shall I go pack now?"

"Why don't you just take a few personal things, we can have a servant pack up the rest of your items," suggested Mr. Bennet.

His spirit revived a great deal at the prospect of an indefinite stay at Longbourn, and his conversation was quite close to what it had been, as Mr. Collins walked back to Longbourn with his cousin, Mr. Bennet, for a visit.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Mrs. Bennet's reception of Mr. Collins was exactly how Mr. Bennet pictured. Luckily, Mr. Collins had been quite tired by the walk, from the bustle of Meryton to the quiet gardens of Longbourn, and he did not notice her noisy exclamation to Mr. Bennet's notification that Mr. Collins would be there for a stay.

Mr. Bennet waved to Kitty to escort Mr. Collins to the afternoon parlor and provide him with a pot of tea and some substantial fare to eat while he maneuvered his lady to his study.

"How _long_ is he going to stay with us Mr. Bennet? You know I cannot abide the man. How can you stand to have him under your roof?

"Mrs. Bennet." It was not a shout, or a command, but his tone of voice was one he rarely used with his wife. She closed her mouth and sat down opposite him, as they had reached the study. He took his usual chair and peered at her with a softening look.

"However we may have felt about the odious man who has the misfortune to be the heir of Longbourn, we have a Christian duty to help out a man in a time of need. I fear that things are not going well for the poor man; he is of poor health and he needs to be looked after in a better manner than can be afforded in the Brunton household."

His wife looked at him, her motherly instincts ignited.

"I am going to send for Mr. Jones right away. I am also going to send George to Bendish Lane for Mr. Collins' things, as he is going to be with us for some time, at least until he recovers his health."

She nodded and bustled off to direct the airing of rooms and to see to other duties, while her husband took care of the immediate concerns of Mr. Collins' health and property. After those activities were settled he was at length to ponder the case of Mr. Collins and Mr. Brunton.

He could only suppose that the deep-rooted dislike that Mr. Brunton had for the family had led him to dishonesty with Mr. Collins' money; for it seemed that he had badly invested, or, at least, poorly advised Mr. Collins on the investment of his money since Collins' coming to live in Meryton. It was too odd, that a man could so hate another or his family that he would deliberately ruin a stranger, whom he had invited into his home, as a means of fulfilling some feud—and a feud to which the other side had no knowledge.

His thoughts were with Elizabeth, and he ached for her presence. She always listened attentively and soothed him when he felt ruffled. A knock, the knob turned, and Kitty entered with a cup of tea. He nodded at her and she turned to go.

"No, please stay," his hand shot out as if to grab her.

She settled across from him and he motioned for her to sit in Elizabeth's chair next to him.

"How is Mr. Collins?" he asked as he took his first sip of tea.

"I fear he fell asleep waiting for the tea," Kitty replied, "Mamma and I pondered whether to wake him, but we felt that the sofa might not be the best place for him. He is having tea with Jane right now. Cook sent up something to eat as well."

"Kitty, I think that Mr. Brunton has been taking advantage of him; that he has been absconding with Mr. Collins' money, and has some hold over him. I am going to call on Mr. Brunton and discuss the matter with him as best I can. I am waiting to make sure that George brings back all of Mr. Collins' personal effects first before I pay the call."

"Papa! I am shocked to think that Mr. Brunton would act in such a manner to Mr. Collins, or to any man!" she cried out. "How could a decent man do such a thing?"

"Before I had put down a great measure of resentment on his part about the legacy of your Grandfather Gardiner's business, but I fear now that his resentment has caused him to act in so unprincipled a manner as to break the law. I will need to consult with your Uncle Philips about the laws, and we shall have to speak to the town magistrate as well. This may be an ugly business." And he leaned back in his chair looking more careworn than his daughter had seen him.

She did an uncharacteristic thing, and standing, leaned over to hug her father.

* * *

Bingley arrived to find his friend was gone. It had been a long absence and he felt a slight sense of betrayal that Darcy was not waiting for him, but needed to see to many matters that had been left unattended with an unexpected two months absence, that he had no time to dwell on his resentment.

Miss Bingley was happy to be settled, after many days on the road, and did not press her brother further for plans to return to London, for she knew she would not be successful. She knew she was at the disposition of her brother, for society prescribed that a single lady could not dictate her own actions; she must either live with her brother, or with a married sister, in order to maintain true respectability.

In the study was a note from Darcy.

_Dear Charles:_

_I am sorry that I am not here to greet you in person. Something extremely urgent has carried me away. I have discovered that George Wickham is in Meryton, but has apparently assumed a different name. I am off to London at first light this morning to obtain documents that I need as proof of his atrocities as I hope to be able to bring him to justice._

_Georgiana is staying with Richard, please look after her for me; I am sure Miss Bingley will appreciate her company._

_Your faithful friend,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

His anger at his friend melted away as he read the note, and Bingley pictured Darcy on the road, and pondered exactly where, at that moment, in his journey he was. Bingley had had a copious among of time to consider all that they had talked about through the winter, and he considered the pursuit of Miss Jane Bennet with new eyes, but also with hesitant feet. He wanted to take no steps without the advice and guidance of his friend, for this was one adventure where he wanted to be assured of success.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam's lodgings in Stevenage were not large, and had not been selected with the accommodation of a lady in mind, but as the lady in question was to only stay for two days, they were able to make due.

Georgiana delighted in all the quaint shops in Stevenage, and her cousin escorted her around the High street area to look into them, and poke her nose into whatever venture suited her fancy. While he shared guardianship of Georgiana, he had never had custody of her, so this was a new experience for him; one which a battle-scared military man had to admit was new territory.

He was anxious to discuss Mr. Wickham with Captain Carter without his cousin. He felt that he could change the captain's opinion about helping them to identify Mr. Wickham from among their ranks. He had to admit that there was something officious about his cousin, and he could understand if the captain took offense to the way Darcy spoke to him, and was digging in his heels about helping them out. As the Colonel of an even larger regiment, if in the captain's position, he would want more information or proof—especially if it was related to an officer in his ranks.

After a new bonnet, a porcelain bird and several yards of new ribbons at various shops had been wrapped up and deliveries promised; they found a shop for tea and delicacies and ventured inside.

* * *

George returned in the late afternoon with a cart laden with all of Mr. Collins' worldly possessions. He related to Mr. Bennet that the man servant at Mr. Brunton's house had taken some persuasion to allow him to collect Mr. Collins' belongings. It was only under threat of Mr. Philips and the magistrate's returning with him—as Mr. Bennet had instructed him to say—that the servant had relented and allowed him entry to the house. Mr. Bennet pressed a coin in the man's hands for the extra service and asked that a horse be saddled.

He did not normally ride, but as the day was getting on, felt that he did not wish to inconvenience his staff any more.

No one answered his knocking on the door at the Brunton residence. There was still light in the sky, so he could see no lights in any of the windows as an indication that someone was inside.

Turning away, he walked slowly and led the horse to his brother-in-laws house, walking by the younger Mrs. Brown.

"He went away this morning, you know, on foot, in a hurry," she said with a wide smile.

Mr. Bennet stopped to look at the lady. She had a basket with some bread peeking out from beneath a bright white linen, some dinner provisions, obviously. He nodded his greeting.

"Do you know where he went or when he will be back?"

"He is probably at the cemetery; he often goes there to visit his wife."

"Thank you Mrs. Brown. Please give my regards to your mother-in-law."

He continued on to the Philips, who had visitors—as they always had visitors—despite the hour of the day. He was able to separate his brother-in-law from his guests and relate all of the events of the morning.

The jolly Mr. Philips was grave by the end of Mr. Bennet's recital as he related the emaciated face and thinning belly of Mr. Collins that morning. "I did not know that my fellow clerk could do such a monstrous thing."

They agreed that they needed to speak to the man before contacting the magistrate, but that the circumstances looked badly for Mr. Brunton. With some light still in the sky, the men set off for the cemetery which lay at the north part of town.

No sign of the man was visible in the twilight of the graveyard, and Mr. Bennet wondered if they had missed him, but Mr. Philips carried on past the gate, as he knew where Mrs. Brunton's grave lay.

Mr. Brunton sat with his back against the stone, his eyes closed, looking very ashen faced, and the sight of him made both men start as they stared at Mr. Brunton waiting for him to sense their presence.

His eyes opened at last and he stared at the gentlemen for a long while before he narrowed his eyes in a flash of anger as he leaned forward.

"Years! Years I worked for Mr. Gardiner and what do I get? A small legacy, and a boot out the door, and you, Carl, get all the glory," he pointed at Mr. Philips with a shaking hand, "you marry the daughter and get the shop. Isabella is still alive, and I only have the comfort of cold stone to visit, not Teresa's loving arms."

"Mr. Brunton, we were clerks together, the best of friends, Bennet and I knew you since our youth. I do not truly understand all that has gone on. Won't you please come home and talk with us?"

"She was always such an angel, my Teresa." He leaned back on the stone again, "I have never loved anything so much; I will never love anything ever so much. To lose her was to have part of me die, but it has brought back all the old hatred I had for Gardiner," and he spat on the ground at their feet.

"Please sir, it is getting late. May we not return to town?" asked Mr. Bennet holding out his hand. Surprisingly, Mr. Brunton clasped it and hauled himself up. In the gloom, they headed for the gate; once they reached the lane there was more light to see by, and they paced towards town, a strange trio.

"When I ran into Mr. Collins, by chance, his first day in Meryton, it seemed a possibility to get back at Gardiner, get back at both of you. So I invited him home and convinced him to change his name—that Bennet would not welcome him with gracious arms, as he had been expecting—and laid the seeds that he should consider wooing one of the daughters," he trotted along at a quick pace.

"You did what!" exclaimed Mr. Bennet, but his brother patted him on the shoulder as he looked at the glassy-eyed stare of the third man.

"So I tried a few times to help him woe one of the daughters, and hoped that would be a good jest at Bennet's expense since Collins is such a soft-headed, absurd sort of a creature. But I am no teacher and he is no student."

"But Longbourn is such a prize to strive for, and really the best estate in the area, so then I began to wonder about just befriending him—getting Collins to marry some equally empty-headed girl—and seeing if I could not get him to then owe me such a huge debt that I might obtain Longbourn as payment," He stopped and his companions halted to look at him. "It's a wonder, Bennet; you have not thought to break the entail. I have thought of a few ideas in that matter—an attorney could help you with that matter quite easily." He turned to give a knowing stare at Mr. Bennet.

They had reached Bendish Lane and proceeded to Mr. Brunton's house where he let himself in with a small key. No lights or fire waited for him, and no servant, but a single unlit candle waited on a short table. He lit it and led them to small room where he lit two more candles and they sat together stiffly.

"So I have made him destitute, and I have made him dependent on me. He is quite susceptible to suggestion, especially if they are ideas that he has heard before," He hooked his hands on the sides of his chair and looked from one man to the other. "His father was a tyrant of a man, as near as I can figure. Never sent him off to school, but tutored him at home and was stricter than any of us can imagine."

Leaning forward to make sure his point was well taken he continued, "But, the father did always insist that he keep one dream alive in his head: that he was to be born to be a gentleman and to inherit Longbourn. It seems that the mother was treated equally as badly by her Papa and that Collins' father never forgave _him_. I just kept repeating his father's strictures. So when you came calling in January, Bennet, he could no more accept your offer than he could call up daffodils from the ground. It would be going against nature."

Long years of friendship could not have prepared Mr. Bennet and Mr. Philips for Mr. Brunton's confessions and the confusion, and even horror, was evident on both of their faces.

"You realize, Brunton, that you have confessed to meddling in Mr. Collins' affairs and are possibly confessing to embezzling his money?" asked Mr. Philips quietly.

"Yes Philips, I know what I am about. I am also a sick old man, possibly dying."

"We will be speaking to the magistrate about this," continued Mr. Philips.

"Mr. Jones has also been called," Mr. Bennet spoke up, "I fear Mr. Collins is not in good health at present."

"You can hardly blame me for causing his poor health!" laughed Mr. Brunton.

"But if he was ill and feeling too poor to call for a doctor? As he explained to me this morning? How do we apportion blame then Brunton?" exclaimed Mr. Bennet.

* * *

Mr. Darcy sat with a leather satchel on his knee with all of the documents he had pulled from his safe. He intended to not let them from his side.

A fire warmed the room, though only the coals glowed as he lounged in his chair waiting for the morning so he could return to Hertfordshire. His trip to London had been uneventful; he hoped for the same for his return journey. Knowing he would sleep little, he remained in his study rather than retiring. Surprisingly, his thoughts were not on Wickham, or his sister, but on Elizabeth.

He reviewed all of their encounters the previous fall, though he was hard pressed to recall that exact first sight of her at the Meryton Assembly, having felt so awkward in a room of strangers; and then having that local boy play a trick on him by telling the coachman that their carriage was needed early. Bingley had been so furious with him for leaving early. He had not learned about that little jest until much later, when the boy's father had made him confess at another social event and apologize.

Those meetings out of doors, when they could talk, not those stilted days at Netherfield, or uncomfortable evenings at neighbors, those were the memories that delighted him the most. And then he sat up, and recalled a particular conversation, probably the first time he had encountered Elizabeth in the woods just outside of Netherfield, when they had walked back to Meryton.

She had mentioned a certain officer who had apparently asked particularly about him. Here was his proof that Wickham was engaged in the militia as an officer, and not an enlisted man—but how to convince the reticent Captain Carter of this? He wished Elizabeth were still in the vicinity now, more than ever before.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The carriage arrived in Bath on a day which belied all those days which had gone before, as far as the weather. The sun carried with it a warmth that had not been felt since October. The two friends said their goodbyes to the Parks; they parted with friendly greetings and words, but little emotion. Catherine was particularly eager to be on the road, though the journey to their first destination would take a few days; and though their stop in Addington was not scheduled until after Easter.

A couple days of travel finally brought them across the border into Kent, into Tonbridge and the first of many stops as they would slowly make their way to the sea and to Dover to see the famed cliffs and its Castle. Elizabeth was ecstatic as the weather encouraged as much time to be spent out of doors which helped to soothe her spirits after so many months of being cooped up indoors.

There were private houses to be seen, and castles to be toured, and quaint medieval churches to visit with echoing steps and whispered conversations. It was a companionable group, and though one might argue Catherine Parks was not related to Elizabeth or the Gardiners, nor was Mrs. Gardiner related by blood, yet, their tastes and interests were so similar that no one person in the group found that they stayed too long or too short at any one place; or that the venue never suited all four perfectly well.

Between the two younger members of the group was a newer bond which further enhanced their closeness—that of loving without hope. For though the trip was to take them to Addington, there was no assurance that they would even have time to run into the busy Dr. Markham. Elizabeth had no idea when she would see Mr. Darcy again.

Their plans called for them to make their way south-east to the sea and then slowly up the coast before turning in towards Canterbury and eventually home. After so many months of disappointing weather, the little party arrived in Folkestone in the afternoon and was greeted with skies so blue that Elizabeth understood the term "dazzlingly blue." The necessity of settling into their inn prevented an immediate exploration of the area, but before supper, the group of four set out for a short visit to the quay and to look out over the English Channel.

The fresh, slightly tangy air was invigorating to Elizabeth as she stood at the quayside with a firm hold on Catherine's elbow. She felt as if she would be capable of setting out for Dover on foot and make it by nightfall.

"It smells so different from the countryside. There is a crispness to the air you do not find there, and something else, almost a taste to the air. I fear our language is more inclined to provide us with words to describe how things _look_ than how they _smell_," commented Catherine as she squeezed Elizabeth's arm. She was not really gazing out across the Channel as the other three were. Her eyes were half-closed behind her blue-green glasses, lost in her senses.

"I believe there is nothing that compares to the sea, of the places we have visited so far, nothing compares with the might of the sea as it crashes against the coast with a continual, unending force. What are men to rocks and mountains? What are man-made structures to the power of the sea?"

"Are you saying Lizzie, that we should not visit any of the places we have marked on our map which might have had man's involvement in their creation?" queried her aunt as she slipped her arm in Elizabeth's free one and the three women stood and gazed for a while longer out at the sea.

* * *

The next day they drove to Dover. It had been a number of days since any letter had found its way to Elizabeth from Longbourn and finally one arrived from Jane. Torn between a walk and wishing to read, she and Catherine decided to walk out together to tour the area near the inn, and Elizabeth brought her letter with her intending to read it when they found a suitable spot.

Setting out from the inn, one hand was wrapped around her letter; the other firmly tucked in Catherine's arm. Elizabeth kept glancing down at the envelope and her sister's familiar writing, not paying attention to all of the activity that was going on in the street. A carriage came dashing along at a crossroads, and it was Catherine who stopped and pulled Elizabeth back in time.

Elizabeth stood looking over at Catherine who peered over the top of her glasses at her with a look that reminded her of her father.

"You are not attending my dear. You need to remember that your hearing is not what it once was," scolded her friend, "you must rely more on your eyes than on your ears. I think we need to find you a safe place so you can read your letter in peace. You may love being out-of-doors, but we can venture across the tops of the cliffs when you are not so distracted." She smiled, squeezing Elizabeth's arm as her friend's face looked close to tears, more from the stern look than from her words.

After some hunting, they found a tea shop, and were able to order tea and Elizabeth was able to settle down with her letter. Her teacup crashed into her saucer, though it did not break, startling her companion.

"Whatever has happened," asked Catherine as she looked at Elizabeth's stricken face.

Elizabeth related the news about Mr. Brunton and Mr. Collins. Though Mr. Brunton had claimed to be quite ill, Mr. Jones had not found anything excessively the matter with him for a man of his age. The magistrate, Sir Horsford, had brought charges of corruption, blackmail, extortion and un-due influence against Mr. Brunton. There had been nothing talked about in Meryton or Stevenage since. Many in the community could not believe that the retiring Mr. Brunton could act in such a manner, so felt quite sorry for the older gentleman who had been a decent neighbor for such a long time. Reverend Vickers had taken the step of speaking up for him in a sermon on Sunday which had ignited a lot of people to call for his release from jail, and had the effect of getting him remanded to house arrest only.

Finally, there was just a small mention that Mr. Bingley and his sister had returned to the neighborhood.

_He came to call, with Mr. Darcy and his sister. We had a very pleasant afternoon together—she is a sweet, shy girl. Mr. Darcy said they are in Meryton only for the week and are to then visit some family at Easter. He asked after you and Catherine, dear Elizabeth, and said something a little odd about woodland elves or sprites?_

There was a smaller letter enclosed, as well, from Kitty. She had more to say on how all of the news about Mr. Collins' circumstances had affected her father and mother. News from Meryton was that some in the neighborhood were saying that Mr. Bennet had pushed his heir out, and that he should have looked after him in a better fashion. Gone was the sympathy neighbors felt for the Bennets with their five daughters and Longbourn entailed away, now they seemed to paint the family black for not having properly looked after their heir.

Mrs. Bennet had not taken to her bed. She seemed to have developed a maternal instinct about Mr. Collins and was determined to see him recover. His health was poor, but nothing which a draught for a persistent cough, good meals and sleep would not cure, insisted Mr. Jones. He would not expire on her watch. She did not, however, venture into town as frequently as used to do.

There was one line from Lydia at the end of Kitty's letter: the regulars are to leave at Easter and find me ribbon!

Elizabeth discussed the letters at length with Catherine and felt that she must return to Meryton, but Catherine did not feel that it was needed. She had more confidence in Kitty's budding abilities to share in the household responsibilities with Jane and to assist Mr. Bennet and argued her point vehemently. Of course, Elizabeth may not feel that anyone else could assist her father, or she might feel that she was in danger of being replaced in her father's affections by Kitty.

A long walk was absolutely necessary, and returning to the inn, they appealed to Mr. Gardiner. As Mrs. Gardiner was not a great walker, but knowing how much her niece loved the outdoors, she suggested that the uncle and niece walk the cliffs while she and Miss Parks keep to a smaller walk around the town.

Elizabeth related the news from home, but Mr. Gardiner agreed with Miss Parks, that it was no cause for alarm, and that Mr. Bennet and Mr. Philips were well able to handle the situation at Longbourn and in Meryton. Perhaps the wind-swept bluffs at the top of Dover cliffs helped to put it all in perspective.

To Ramsgate and Canterbury, therefore, they were to continue.

There were castles, Walmer and Deal, on the way, built as fortifications along the channel, but by Easter they had reached Canterbury. The four travelers spent a companionable amount of time in Canterbury with the magnificence of the Cathedral to wonder at, even if there were some damage to the North West tower that spoiled its beauty and symmetry.

Another letter arrived from Jane, and Elizabeth was surprised to see how shaky the handwriting appeared on the outside and said so to her companions as they ate their meal at the inn.

_Dearest Lizzie,_

_I am an heiress and to inherit Longbourn! Mr. Collins has agreed to amend the entail in return for the terms Papa offered him back in the winter. He has been most obliging since Papa has taken him under his proverbial wing. His health has improved and his high spirits have returned, and I have found him to be a more companionable person than we had once suspected. I believe he only wants the correct environment to be a better informed, may I say it, less awkward person._

_He wants information, but Papa has set him to reading in the hopes of improving his mind. Kitty has been a great helpmate, in holding discussions with Mr. Collins over what he has read. I fear Lydia has taken to inventing excuses of household chores so as to spend as little time with him as possible. She has taken to the outdoors, like you, with long walks, and continues to spend a great deal of time with the Harrington sisters. Mamma's tolerance of Mr. Collins is waning now that he is on the mend; she has taken to her rooms feeling poorly since _his _recovery. She does come down for visitors, as we have had an increase in the number of callers recently. I think word about the entail has become common knowledge in town; I fear I shall now have to worry about unwanted attentions. I believe every single officer in Meryton has come to tea except Mr. Worthing who seems to have disappeared again. Captain Carter mentioned that they were looking for him at supper the other evening._

_Mr. Dunton has not filed the briefs, but Mr. Collins has signed. Mr. Dunton was here two days ago and they spent almost the whole day together hammering out the details between the three of them. There is a living worth 160 pounds a year in a small village in Buckinghamshire that was deemed the best fit. Papa's spirits have recovered, but this has been a difficult business. The town, at least, has turned the tide again, and no longer holds Papa responsible for Mr. Brunton's downfall. Mr. Brunton has been very vocal, despite advice from Mr. Philips to the contrary, about his part in corrupting Mr. Collins and attempting his downfall. This appears to have made a difference in how our neighbors view us._

_Reverend Vickers has been lamenting that Mr. Brunton cannot claim 'benefit of clergy' as a first-time offender as the charges are too great, and Sir Horsford has said it is likely he will be transported to Australia for his crimes. None are punishable by death, for which I am thankful, as I fear that Mr. Brunton is not quite in his right mind and not wholly accountable for his actions._

_News in town, and even in Stevenage, then, has been about Mr. Brunton's case and about the regulars packing up and leaving for a new encampment on the coast. Lydia is heartbroken about it. The militia is to move on at the beginning of summer as well. It will be quite a change to our little town and the surrounding area once they are all gone._

_Mr. Bingley and his sister are still in the area. Miss Bingley and I have had tea together three times and I have been delighted to be able to renew our acquaintance. Mr. Bingley is more reserved than before and I am not sure what else to say in that matter._

_We are all missing you, but wishing you the best and know we will see you soon._

_Love, Jane_


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Rochester Cathedral was magnificent. Though small and plain compared to Canterbury, Elizabeth found it a delight. Its size pleased her sensibilities, warm and inviting. The new organ was splendid, and though it was not planned, their little party stayed to hear it played.

For a while, Lizzie did nothing but listen. The rumble of the organ music penetrated her skin, and she could almost hear it with her fingers and by the hairs on her arms, and deep within her chest, despite her limited hearing. Catherine sat with the most beautiful smile on her face. It could have been the music, or the fact that their destination that evening was Addington.

As she sat listening, Elizabeth looked around at the other visitors, surprised by the number. It was a remarkably warm day, they had been blessed with fine weather, and local families had taken the opportunity to visit.

One young woman caught her eye; she was tall and dark-haired. She had a beautiful, but also sad face. Almost a Madonna, thought Lizzie, who smiled. The young woman was perhaps about Kitty's age; she had three companions. The oldest was obviously a governess or companion of some sort, but there was a tall, extremely well-dressed woman who was probably her mother. The woman sat stiffly, her lips pursed as if the music and the venue were not at all to her liking. The last companion was another young woman. She was fair where the other was dark; short and thin. However, in contrast to the mother, her face glowed with delight at the music.

Elizabeth watched them for a time, before the dark-haired young woman looked over and Lizzie looked away.

"They say the castle is haunted," began Catherine with a wide smile as they walked out of the church.

"I think that is said of any set of ruins," she knew her friend was teasing. She looked up the sloping hill towards Rochester Castle. It would be a pleasant walk before their midday meal.

"Aunt, l know we have already delayed our plans to listen to the organ recital, but might we not walk up to see the castle?" she appealed to her aunt.

"I am not a great walker, Lizzie, but perhaps you and Miss Parks might make a trip of it. There is not much to see, I understand, besides ruins, so nothing to tempt you to stay so I do not need fear you will be long."

The two friends set off at a quick pace along a crumbling wall and gained entrance inside the castle keep. The castle was dark and crumbling, laying in more shadows than she would have suspected for midday. Plants and vines grew all over the castle and grounds, and it was quite a contrast to the neat church grounds which they had just left. Elizabeth slowed her pace so her friend would not be caught unawares by an overgrown plant or tree root.

"I believe I understand why people ascribe hauntings to old buildings," admitted Elizabeth as they stood next to the castle with its arched walls towering over them. On a colder day she probably would have shivered by the imposing structure, but the warm weather kept her spirits up.

"It is rumored to be haunted by a white lady; she even appears in the day time," remarked Catherine.

Elizabeth could understand the foundation of such a claim given the over-grown nature of the place, but would not be swayed. "We are sensible, rational creatures, Catherine, and need to put away such talk."

"I am both anxious and a little nervous to be arriving at Addington at last," she mentioned, turning towards the true topic that disturbed her.

"I am sure all will be well."

"What if he is not even there? What if he is visiting his brother? We never made arrangements to visit with Dr. Markham specifically, just with Mrs. Bird and the staff."

For the first time in a long while, Elizabeth saw tears in her friend's eyes. She dropped the arm that was supporting her friend to grasp her shoulders. "Catherine, how could he not love you? You deserve happiness, more so than I. You have been such a good friend I will make him understand how much he needs you."

Catherine could only stand there and cry and Elizabeth held her, Lizzie shedding her own tears for her friend. Handkerchiefs were taken out, and recovering their spirits; they continued around the building and its tangled growth of plants and jumble of stones.

A voice called out that Elizabeth did not quite catch, though there was something familiar about it. She turned her head to look for the source, missed seeing a stone in front of her, and tripped. Catherine's stick held her upright, but she did not have a firm enough grasp on Elizabeth, and Lizzie went down.

Hands were on her, gentle ones and she wondered at Catherine's touch.

"Elizabeth," croaked a voice in her ear and she nearly burst into tears herself at the sound of Mr. Darcy's voice.

"Are you well? Did you hurt yourself?" he panted as he helped her to right herself. "Did you hurt your wrist again?" His expression was serious as he traced every inch of her face: the wisps of hair at the edge of her bonnet, her eyebrows raised in surprise at his presence, the deep, dark pools of her eyes, a nose with a few freckles on the end that invited kissing, and lips below that demanded it.

"Mr. Darcy!" Her eyes grazed around his face with its knitted brows and tousled hair as he leaned over her, his hands on her arms, his gaze on her face. His concern was such that she did start crying then, at the sheer relief of knowing he did love her. All those months apart, and the uncertainty of even knowing if she would ever see him again; of not knowing how deeply he cared for her came tumbling out.

"Miss Elizabeth, you are hurt," he cried with more emotion than politeness, "Richard can you fetch help?" Lizzie looked up to see that Colonel Fitzwilliam was standing in their circle and that a number of other castle visitors appeared to be looking intently at their group. She blinked to stop her tears, employing her handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

"No, truly I am well," his hands were still on her as she looked up at him, "I was just shaken by the fall."

"I most sincerely apologize," bowed the Colonel. Mr. Darcy let go with one hand, but kept a firm one under her arm as he made way for the Colonel. "I recognized you from across the courtyard and called out a greeting. I fear my distraction caused you to trip." He bowed again; his face had a grave, shadowed look to it.

"Indeed sir, I should have been paying more attention and been a better guide. I am thankful Catherine did not stumble as well," she smiled at her friend who stood on steady feet with her beautiful walking stick held firmly in her hand. A slight breeze teased some curls from beneath Catherine's bonnet and she presented a striking picture in front of the castle ruins; she gave the Colonel a smile and his face softened in response. The Colonel walked over to offer his arm to Miss Parks.

Elizabeth turned back to Mr. Darcy, "I understood you to be visiting family in Kent, Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, we are. My sister and cousin wished to get out of the house and come see the cathedral today, but the Colonel and I came to see the castle. We are due to head back to the Cathedral and then we are all to return home for our dinner."

"We have just been to the Cathedral. We stayed longer than we planned to hear the new organ being played. Then we were tempted by the walk to the castle grounds."

"We are lucky that you did as we might not have run in to each other," he kept gazing down at her, wondering at the chance of running into her.

They were slowly making their way to the castle keep entrance. Elizabeth's ankle did give her a little trouble, but she feared saying anything to Mr. Darcy. Besides, the happiness she felt with having encountered him made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"Would you do me the honor of permitting me to introduce you to my sister, my cousin and my aunt?" he inquired as they turned through the gate. She looked up at him, and his eyes were only on her. She nodded.

"Darcy!" called out a voice and they both stopped. A grand carriage sat on the narrow street beyond. A head leaned out of the window with a hand gesturing towards them. "We have been done for ages, find your horse and your cousin and let us be gone!"

The Colonel and Miss Parks came up behind them, and the foursome looked at the carriage. The figure continued to stare at them intently.

Mr. Darcy gently led Elizabeth up to the carriage. She could see that it was the tall woman that she had seen at the cathedral earlier that morning. Next to her was the fair-headed young woman looking curiously over the woman's shoulder. Through the other window were visible the other women, the dark-haired girl leaning over the governess as she stared at the group outside. This must be his sister, Miss Darcy!

"Aunt Catherine, I have run into some old friends. I would like you to meet Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Catherine Parks," he presented each woman in turn to his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who continued to frown at the group, but who had manners enough to greet the women.

"Darcy, we are anxious to be home; I fear Anne is unwell."

"I should like to see Miss Bennet and Miss Parks to their own carriage Aunt; may I not meet you at Rosings?"

"Colonel, you may escort us home then," she declared, and nodded a goodbye to the group. The Miss Darcy continued to stare at Elizabeth, her head ducked down a little for a better view out the small carriage window.

"We will not hold dinner for you," was Lady Catherine's parting remark; she shut her window, and they set off. The Colonel had to scramble to find the groom with his horse.

"Are you to be in the area long?" It came off his tongue quickly. He had each woman by the elbow as they made their way towards _The Lonely Travelers Inn_ to meet with the Gardiners.

"Yes, we have plans to stay in Addington for a number of days," answered Catherine, "we have some friends to visit here."

"Addington is quite close to Rosings Park, which is my Aunt's home," answered Mr. Darcy, "may I call on you during your stay?" He was looking down at Elizabeth. She nodded.

The Gardiner's exclaimed with delight at the sight of Mr. Darcy and invited him to stay for their meal, but he excused himself and took his leave.

* * *

_The Saracen's Head Inn_ was small, but the rooms were clean and comfortable. Catherine sat staring at a faded and slightly stained print on the wall as she and Elizabeth waited in their private parlor for the Gardiners.

"You are very quiet dearest," began Elizabeth, "are you not excited that we will be visiting Priestwood Green tomorrow?"

Catherine continued to stare at the print. "I don't know what to think. Does he even remember me? Was this even a sensible idea to be coming? Lizzie, what will he think of me for coming when we do get there?" Her voice was flat and emotionless.

Elizabeth closed the gap between herself and her friend. "He must value you Catherine, he must." Elizabeth really did not know how the visit to the sanitarium the next day would go. It had been over a year since they had left it as patients, and though Catherine kept up correspondence with a few of the staff, her admiration of the doctor might be misguided or misplaced given the long period since their departure.

The supper at the inn was nourishing and simple and Elizabeth wondered what grand affair would be served at Rosings Park, for Mr. Darcy's Aunt struck her as one who kept an elaborate table.

A servant knocked on the door to their little parlor, after their supper, and announced that they had visitors. The travelers looked around in surprise, and hurried to make sure that the room was set to rights as the servant brought the visitors up the stairs.

Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy entered. Introductions were made all around and the group settled in the parlor which just accommodated seating all of them. Mr. Darcy apologized for the unexpected visit, but indicated he wished to introduce his sister, but that time had not permitted it earlier.

Miss Darcy was tall and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. Her manners were unassuming and gentle. Darcy was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss Darcy was helped along by Mrs. Gardiner's encouragement as well.

The Colonel sat by Miss Parks. At first she was quiet, listening and watching Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth and his sister. But the Colonel had powers of persuasion, and their weeks of travel could not but be talked about, and Catherine found herself drawn into heartening discussions with him on all of the sights from her recent travels.

Their visitors did not stay long, but did bring an invitation to dine at Rosings on the day after the next.

* * *

The modern building and grounds of the Priestwood Green Sanitarium had a more cheerful aspect than she remembered. Elizabeth had not anticipated being excited about the return visit because it also brought back difficult memories of the loss of Mary, and the struggles that Meryton had encountered with the scarlet fever's impact on the neighborhood. But the grounds were in bloom, and she recalled walks there as she and Catherine had first solidified their friendship; how they had discovered each other's interests and needs, and had helped each other to recover.

Mrs. Bird, who acted as a sort of housekeeper at the sanitarium, met them at the door and true to her nature embraced them both in tight hugs before then holding them out at arm's length to look them over. She exclaimed over their rosy cheeks and freckled noses, and proclaimed both Elizabeth and Catherine pictures of health.

The Gardiners were introduced, and they were able to meet up with other staff members. The Priestwood Green staff had laid out a nice luncheon for their guests in a private dining parlor that neither Catherine nor Elizabeth had ever been in during their stay. Mrs. Bird answered by saying that Dr. Markham had indicated it was to be used especially for their visit; it was only opened up for special occasions. Elizabeth glanced over at Catherine to see her reaction to this information, but she was turned away talking to one of the nurses.

Their luncheon was a noisy, happy affair. For the sanitarium staff, it was encouraging to have former patients come back to visit. Bonds got formed with patients staying for months at a time, and it was encouraging to see them returned to health, and to hear their news. For Catherine and Elizabeth it eased the memories of both of their illnesses.

Catherine had been on-edge waiting for Dr. Markham to appear, as Mrs. Bird had said he intended to join them, but it was not until they were enjoying ices—the last of the ice until the winter, so a treat—that he walked in.

Dr. Benedict Markham was past thirty, but handsome with dark hair. He joined Catherine and Elizabeth as soon as he entered, and was profuse in his greetings with both women. They entered easily into conversation and discussed all the patients who had been in residence with them. He was enthusiastic about the news of Miss Goulding's coming nuptials and wished her the best.

There was an easiness to their conversation, but Elizabeth could see no signs of particular regard towards her friend; his face always possessed the same cheerful countenance. Dr. Markham was an amiable man and reminded her of Mr. Bingley—though he did not smile as much—with very pleasant manners. He was polite to the Gardiners and their little afternoon passed by very quickly.

Elizabeth inquired of the doctor about Rosings Park and its inhabitants. Dr. Markham sat back in his chair.

"Lady Catherine is not fond of my work," he admitted honestly, "she believes, like my brother and sisters that I have somehow betrayed my station in life to be working. She is also offended to have the sanitarium so close to her property; I believe there is only five miles between Priestwood Green and Rosings Park." He leaned back in his chair placing his hands on his legs. "It is a shame, as I believe that the daughter, Anne, would benefit from a stay here too."

"Why, is she in poor health?" Lizzie leaned a little forward in her chair.

"She does have periods of ill health for which Lady Catherine calls in various physicians from London, but I am inclined to think that she may need a long stay where the air is dry and not be shut up inside a house and coddled as she is. Even a short stay here would do her good. But I cannot know for sure without her being my patient, and that, Lady Catherine would not allow. I suppose when she marries her cousin, Mr. Darcy, then I might be able to persuade him to let me treat her." His eyes gazed off at some distant point, so he missed the effect these words had on Elizabeth who gasped as made a fist of her gown's fabric in her hand.

Mr. Darcy to marry his cousin! This was news that made her shiver involuntarily, and she tightened her fist until the spot was quite wrinkled and she heard the small hiss as the fabric tore.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

The evening passed in a blur, and Elizabeth could not really account for her and her companion's time. When at last, alone in her room that night, she thought of Dr. Markham's remarks about Mr. Darcy: that he was to marry his cousin.

Had she read too much into his greetings that morning at the castle; was she blinded, prejudiced by love? She now tried to think in a detached manner of his actions in all of their previous encounters. Was she only seeing in his face what she wanted to read and could she ascribe his actions to simply gentlemanly behavior? After all, he had helped her up from a fall once before, during that thunderstorm so many months before, and he had not declared himself then. Why should he be declaring himself now?

Elizabeth, with her love of poetry, had read of heartstrings, and felt that she understood them now. Like strings on a violin that could sing with pure joy, but also express the depths of sorrow; her heartstrings ached with a grief she felt she could not express. To be parted from him seemed unimaginable, but to see him tomorrow at the dinner party knowing he was destined for another seemed unbearable.

The _Saracen's Head Inn_'s rooms were so tiny, that she and Catherine had separate rooms, and a small noise, even with her limited hearing, brought her out of her reverie. Catherine was crying and it made Lizzie feel sick, and she was torn between going in to her friend and wondering what real comfort she could provide.

She cracked open the door.

"Lizzie," whispered her friend, "how does Lydia fall in love with a different gentleman every fortnight?" Catherine blinked back her tears. "I simply cannot believe that she knows what love feels like."

"There are so many forms of love, and there is a depth to love I did not understand, until perhaps today, but we are not going to be philosophical when we should be talking about your doctor."

"How could I be so blind?" she cried in a hoarse whisper, her throat raspy, "I know that there was nothing to hope for, but that does not mean that I did not nurse it in my bosom Lizzie. All hope is lost, I know it, all hope is lost." And Catherine burst into tears and Elizabeth crawled into the bed and held her until she slept.

* * *

Catherine sent word that she was suffering from a headache when she did not appear at the breakfast table the next morning.

"Poor Catherine, her eyes do trouble her, do they not," observed Mrs. Gardiner over breakfast.

Elizabeth nodded her concurrence whilst she sipped her tea. She offered no other explanation for Catherine's illness.

"Lizzie, I am quite looking forward to dinner this evening with Mr. Darcy and his family," commented her uncle, though his eyes were on a small broadsheet of local news.

"My dear, I feel that we ought to follow Miss Darcy's example and call on her this morning. Her calling on us so late in the evening and risking missing her supper just to meet us is an example which must be imitated," decreed her aunt.

Elizabeth had no argument to such a visit, though there was nothing else she would rather do less. She was slow at the table and lingered far longer than she was normally want to do.

* * *

Rosings Park was situated very near the Priestwood Green Sanitarium and Elizabeth wondered that she had not heard its owner mentioned during her stay at the sanitarium. Her mind had been so consumed with grief for Mary that she supposed she had not paid attention to anything else.

The house had a sort of gaudy splendor compared to the houses they had seen in their earlier travels, with an imposing driveway and entrance.

From the entrance hall they followed the servants through an ante-chamber to the rooms where Lady Catherine, Anne De Bourgh, Georgiana Darcy and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive them.

Without Mr. Darcy in the room, Elizabeth found herself quite equal to the scene, and could observe the ladies before her composedly, though she could not help but glance at Miss De Bourgh in particular with the eyes of a rival.

Lady Catherine's air was not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as marked her self-importance.

Miss De Bourgh was unlike her mother in height and coloring; her features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance there was nothing remarkable. Elizabeth was not one to pick apart Miss De Bourgh's features or character in comparison to her own; she could be jealous, but not wonder at her rival's accomplishments in opposition to her own. She could only observe Mr. Darcy's intended and wonder that she, like her friend, could be so mistaken about both her own and his feelings.

As in their brief visit at the Inn, Lizzie found Georgiana to be shy and only answered questions that were put to her. In the presence of Lady Catherine it appeared to be even harder to find her voice, for her aunt had much to say on a variety of topics. The grand lady seemed determined to interrogate her new guests even if courtesy demanded the topics remain general.

Catherine De Bourgh's focus was immediately on Elizabeth and she began to set her a series of questions. Where was her place in the family, how many sisters she had, whether any of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, what sort of carriage her father kept and what had been her mother's maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her questions, but answered them very composedly.

"Has your governess left you?"

"We never had any governess," replied Elizabeth as she looked at the group of ladies who were all focused intently on the two conversationalists.

"No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! –I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education."

Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her that had not been the case.

"Then, who taught you? Who attended to you? Without a governess you must have been neglected."

"Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as wished to learn, never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might."

"Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it!" She looked over at Mrs. Jenkinson who nodded her head firmly in agreement with these strictures.

Lady Catherine then observed, "Your father's estate is entailed, I believe I heard. I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh's family."

Elizabeth felt that something needed to be said about the insolence of Lady Catherine's remarks, but a gloved hand gently squeezed hers from their seat on the stiff sofa.

"I am sure that Miss De Bourgh is appreciative of all of the advantages that have been given to her in life," remarked Mrs. Gardiner. "Has she been educated in town that she might properly take on the responsibilities attending the inheritance of such a grand estate as Rosings Park? My brother, Mr. Bennet, has certainly seen to it that his daughters, such as have been inclined, have been informed of financial and estate matters."

"Anne has not been educated in town, her health has been delicate," rejoined Lady Catherine looking decidedly ruffled at Aunt Gardiner's questions and remarks. Miss De Bourgh looked down at her lap. Elizabeth looked over at Georgiana and was surprised to see a slight smile on the edges of her mouth. "I am certain she would have been equal to such matters, had her health allowed."

Lady Catherine then turned to Mrs. Gardiner and directed a series of familiar questions to her, beginning with her maiden name and place of birth. She enquired about the number of children she had, the location of her house in London, how many servants she retained, how many chickens and geese she kept? Apparently there was nothing beneath this great lady's attention.

Aunt Gardiner answered them with forbearance, then asked almost the same set of questions of the great lady herself. The room was quiet as Mrs. Gardiner sat composedly with a schooled expression on her face as Lady Catherine's cheeks reddened.

"I fear Anne is feeling unwell," piped up Mrs. Jenkinson, standing and dragging a slightly startled looking Miss De Bourgh with her. All of the ladies rose.

Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner curtsied and said their thanks to their hostess and made their way to their carriage. On the ride back to the Inn, Lizzy reflected on the peculiarity of their intent to call on Miss Darcy yet not having exchanged any words with her beyond greetings and good-byes.

* * *

On Elizabeth's return to the _Saracen's Head Inn,_ she checked on Catherine. Catherine's eyes were red, and she related that shortly after Lizzie and Mrs. Gardiner had left she had received word that Colonel Fitzwilliam had called. Catherine had sent word that she was not receiving visitors. Sometime after the Colonel's visit, Doctor Markham came to call, and the servant had turned him away with the same message that she was not available. How unlucky! To not even know until later that he had called.

Catherine felt that she might never leave her bed, but with Elizabeth's encouragement and guidance, she not only was able to recover her spirits, but to consider joining the dinner party at Rosings in the evening. A year previously, Catherine had taught Lizzie to carry on through her illness, and those same encouraging words and loving thoughts were enveloped around Catherine now, to rally her. Elizabeth was firm that she would not attend without her friend, and so, Catherine agreed to dress for Rosings.

* * *

News of her visit did not reach him until Elizabeth and her aunt had left. The Colonel had indicated he was going to run some errands, so Darcy had used the morning to catch up on some estate business. While there were pressing business issues, he felt there was a sense of urgency now that he had found Elizabeth again and a missed opportunity to see and converse with her did not sit well with him.

The chance offered with running into her at Rochester Cathedral was one to be capitalized on. He had made the introduction between Georgiana and Elizabeth, which Georgiana had been longing for these many weeks. That meeting had not turned out as he wished; his sister had been reserved and shy, more of her former self. Darcy feared the business with Wickham in Meryton may have had more of an impact on Georgiana's temperament than she admitted. She was no longer skittish, but seemed morose now. Wickham's complete disappearance in Meryton, to the consternation of all, had an ill effect on all concerned except his sister. Georgiana seemed to have carried forth her plan of enjoyment with the Herfordshire trip, visiting her new acquaintances there happily. Once she arrived in Kent, however, she had been more thoughtful and melancholy.

The discussion in the parlor after the visitors had left was not flattering. Lady Catherine had much more to say about Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth after they had departed than she did to them directly, even if her character had always been celebrated for its openness. Darcy curtailed his aunt's words which soured the mood in Rosing's household all afternoon and Lady Catherine's mood in particular.

* * *

The guests arrived in good time. Mr. Sowcroft, the new Huntsford parson, was to join them at table as well. He was young, thin, short and looked exactly like a parson. After the introductions, Darcy had hoped to sit with Elizabeth, but he could not catch her eye. She was captured by Mr. Sowcroft and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam while they waited for dinner to be announced. Darcy could only converse with Miss Parks and Mrs. Gardiner, and cast fleeting glimpses at Elizabeth who seemed wholly absorbed by the two gentlemen.

The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, and all the articles of plate which were to be expected at his aunt's table. Darcy carved, and the visitors praised the dishes as they were presented; especially Mr. Sowcroft who was little used to such company. Mr. Gardiner seemed to be having an exceedingly good time, having engaged in a lengthy discussion with Colonel Fitzwilliam to whom he was seated nearby.

Darcy considered what perverse luck that he should be seated near Anne and Mrs. Gardiner and that Elizabeth was next to his aunt at the other end, which seemed to give neither one much pleasure—especially after the morning's visit. His eyes turned to her again and again in the hopes of catching hers, but she never once looked in his direction, but spoke mostly to Mr. Sowcroft who was on her other side. Lady Catherine seemed gratified by their admiration of her table, and gave the most gracious smiles, and appeared to be recovering her good humor.

After dinner, Darcy reluctantly joined Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Sowcroft as the gentlemen separated from the ladies. His final glimpse of Elizabeth was to see his aunt hailing her to sit next to her in his aunt's place by the fire and he could only imagine the battery of questions she would press upon Miss Bennet.

The Rosings cellar was extraordinary, as his late uncle had seen to its upkeep and time passed slowly as Darcy, as unofficial host, waited for his guests to finish their port and politics and be ready to join the ladies.

When they at last entered the drawing room, her ladyship received them civilly. It was plain that her guest's company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else—and of more superior consequence—and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews as soon as they walked in the room, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room. Elizabeth was dismissed, and her nephews summoned.

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see the ladies; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings, and he immediately seated himself by Elizabeth and Catherine after his aunt had begun a particular topic with Darcy and the Colonel could free himself. Lady Catherine pressed Darcy with a number of questions to which he was inattentive. The animated conversation between his cousin, Elizabeth and Miss Parks drew his attention, and his eyes were soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship after a while shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out,

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet and Miss Parks? Let me hear what it is."

"We are speaking of music, Madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How do you get on, Georgiana?"

Georgiana looked up from her position next to Mrs. Gardiner, and with whom she had found some level of comfort in conversing, and replied that she felt she was coming along nicely, having mastered a new piece since coming to Kent.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of your skills," said Lady Catherine; "and pray remember, that you cannot expect to excel, if you do not practice a great deal."

Georgiana just blushed and looked over at her brother.

"I assure you, Madam," Darcy addressed their aunt, "that Georgiana does not need such advice. She practices very constantly."

"So much the better. It cannot be done too much. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. Though Miss Bennet is traveling, she is very welcome to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."

Darcy, ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding, made no answer.

When coffee was over, Darcy heard Colonel Fitzwilliam remind Elizabeth of having promised to play to him, and for Miss Parks to sing; and Lizzie sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to Darcy; till Darcy could not attend her anymore and walked away, and moving towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.

Elizabeth's lashes were continually cast down and in the light of the candelabra that had been placed to light her music, they created shadows against the surface of her cheeks. His eyes followed the movement, captivated. An acute awareness of her very being washed over him and he felt ready to declare himself to her at that very moment, in front of the other guests.

"Do you mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others." Her eyes had a shadowed look as she looked up from the keyboard to link eyes with him for a moment.

"I shall not say that you are mistaken," Darcy replied, startled at her words and searching her face for clues as to their meaning, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you."

Elizabeth laughed and turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "this is not the first time he has approached me as I was playing."

"You came up to us at the Lucas' party, when Lizzie was playing and I was singing," remarked Miss Parks as she looked intently at him. His cousin had eyes only for Miss Bennet.

"Perhaps Mr. Darcy is not aware that his actions may be perceived ill by others?" She continued to address his cousin and would not look up at him. "We all wish the world to look upon us and know our motives and motivations, but people are so irregular in their actions, so often guarded, secretive, that we are not often clear in the reasons for our actions, would you not agree Colonel?" He nodded readily.

"I would hope that I am not one of those gentlemen to whom you refer—that my character and actions have always been laid out clearly," though as he said it, he realized that he had initially concealed his admiration of Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy, you are provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear," she finally looked him in the eyes with an intent gaze.

"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

"You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He did not take the time to be introduced to all the local families. His friend Mr. Bingley took the time, but Mr. Darcy did not. Now what does that say about him?"

Darcy started at her words as she described that first public outing in Hertfordshire. Her words stung, and he wondered at the change in her demeanor from their meeting the previous day.

Elizabeth seemed not to have noticed the reaction, but turned to his cousin again, "Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."

"Perhaps," said Darcy, "I should have judged better, had I sought introductions, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?" Her hands danced lightly on the keyboard as she questioned him.

"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault –because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution."

Darcy smiled, and said, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."

Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy,

"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. When Miss Parks sang, his aunt's remarks fell on the blonde's performance as well.

Colonel Fitzwilliam kept Elizabeth and Catherine at the pianoforte for the rest of the evening and Darcy was left to join either Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Sowcroft in discussions of politics, or watch Mrs. Gardiner, Georgiana, Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson play at cards.

All-in-all, it was not the evening Darcy had perceived, and he planned, as he watched his sister and Mrs. Gardiner conversing, to visit Elizabeth the next morning.

_A/N: Thanks for hanging in there with me. A couple weeks of business travel, a week of vacation plus spending most of my time writing documentation at work meant little time for writing in June. I am back in the saddle and ready to go once again._


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

After seeing Elizabeth and her family to their carriage and seeing Mr. Sowcroft on his way—he was on foot—Darcy realized he could not bear the idea of listening to his aunt's strictures on the behavior of their guests, or see how much wine his cousin had indeed imbibed. Not wishing to be found, if sent for, he eschewed the Rosings' study for the library, and armed with a single candle, he perused the shelves without finding a title to his liking. His eyes lingered over the copies of Shakespeare, but he dared not pull out any of the volumes and begin a lesson in comparisons between himself and any one of the characters. In no mood for the Comedies, he felt he knew his fatal flaw already and could not brook a foray into the Tragedies, yet his eye remained fixed on the spines.

Elizabeth's behavior was not obviously different, but was changed enough that he had to wonder if he had missed his chance with her. He had, after all, not seen her since London; and at the time he had convinced himself that she would not suit him as mistress of Pemberley. Her behavior at Rochester castle had been welcoming, and her reception of his sister had seemed inviting enough. Had some event changed between their last meeting in London, or since their chance meeting in Kent? The intervening months could have changed her.

His hand hovered over the copy of the first volume of Hamlet, as though part of him meant to torture himself when he heard the door open. Georgiana was gazing at him, a candlestick clenched in her hand as she watched him.

"I wondered where you got to when you did not come back to the drawing room," she paced a few steps into the room. "Are you looking for a book to read before bed?"

"I am avoiding our relations," it was an honest answer, one more honest than he intended. His hand dropped, and he turned to properly look at her. The candle cast flickering shadows on her face, but the worry was plainly visible.

Georgiana was more diplomatic. "Aunt Catherine has a lot to say about our visitors, _all_ of our visitors tonight. I wonder that Anne can sit and listen to her talk all the time."

"Are you ready to retire?"

"Your evening, did it meet your expectations?" She approached her brother and set her candlestick down on a small table.

He looked over at her, the question seemed to have brought lines out on her forehead, and near her mouth; the light from the candle highlighting them and making them stand out deeply.

"Georgiana, you are not happy; are you worried about having to stay at Rosings, and Aunt Catherine? Or even Anne?"

"No, it is not about our stay here. I had been so happy since you told me about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It was like some fairy story," and a tear rolled down her cheek, "but now that I see that she is real, I can only imagine you marrying her and my losing you too—I would be shuffled off to the house in London, or set up in an establishment with Mrs. Annesley and never be allowed to come home to Pemberley again."

"Georgiana!" and he closed the gap between them, "you will never lose me. You would be gaining a sister, not losing a brother; you will always have me," he put his hands on her shoulders, "dearest, you will always have Pemberley as your home. My marrying does not ever mean that you will need to live anywhere else." The tears flowed earnestly now and he pulled her over to sit down at the small sofa.

In between tears, she let him understand Wickham's hold on her, his appeal—how he gave her a sense of love for the first time since their father had passed away. She had so few people to love, and the idea of one person loving her back so ardently and he did it with such flattering words, that she could not but love him back. He could also tell stories of her mother whom she could not remember when so few seemed to want to share stories with her, and Darcy felt how much he was to blame for his sister's isolation.

* * *

Mr. Gardiner was quite talkative in the drive back, discussing plans he had made with Mr. Darcy for some fishing the next morning. The three women were silent as Uncle Gardiner talked of his enjoyment of the evening, the quality of the wine and the interesting head for business that he found Mr. Sowcroft to possess. "Quite wasted as a clergyman, he had some great insights about economics. I could employ him in my business if he was wanting employment."

At the inn they all retired to their separate rooms, and Elizabeth was left to ponder all that had happened that evening. To be separated from him, and contrive a headache had been impossible. In rallying her friend, Miss Parks, to attend the party at Rosings she had truly been rallying her own spirits and sensibilities.

Elizabeth had looked at Darcy often to see how cordially he greeted his cousin Miss De Bourgh, how often he attended her and whether she could discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behavior that evening, thanks also to Miss Parks' whispered observations, she thought he showed no symptoms of love for his cousin. Elizabeth was feeling peevish, however, and had not wanted to appear conciliatory, so had remained at the pianoforte at the Colonel's behest even when she would have rather joined Mr. Darcy or his sister.

She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was a union that must have been to the advantage of both. She needed no Miss Parks to argue his finer points with her this night. Elizabeth knew and could only hope that he took a break from the fishing plans to pay her a visit on the morrow.

* * *

Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from Jane on their first arrival at Addington; and this disappointment had been renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on the third, her repining was over by the receipt of two letters from Jane at once, on one of which was marked that it had been missent elsewhere.

They had just been preparing to walk out as the letters came in; and her family and friend, left her to enjoy them in quiet, and set off by themselves. The one missent must be first attended to; it had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded; but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:

"Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you—be assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. We had all been to the Lucas' for an evening of supper and cards. I am afraid that we did stay out rather later than is usual, but the party was a sort of final farewell to some of the officers in the regulars. We all retired, and Lydia said she did not need Sarah's help to undress and should just help Kitty and I; you know how she sometimes just scrambles out of her dresses and has torn her dress ties on previous occasions. We did not think anything about it. It was not until breakfast the next morning that we realized that she had run off. There was a letter in her room on her dressing table addressed to Mama informing her that she had run off to Paris with one of the militia officers; to own the truth, with Worthing!—Imagine our surprise. I am very, very shocked. So imprudent a match on both sides!—But I am willing to hope the best, and that this shade on his character is really nothing but impetuousness. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her almost nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from Mamma. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written."

Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows—it had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first:

"By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Worthing and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it will ever take place, for there is reason to believe he is not even called Mr. Worthing. Papa met with Colonel Forster at length yesterday and there was much to reveal about this young man who has spent so much time under our roof and been such a favorite with Lydia and our mother. It seems he has debts and other charges I dare not speak of laid at his feet. The Colonel had been searching for him for several weeks for as he has apparently deserted his regiment! as there were formal charges brought against him before Easter. All of this going on in our sleepy village! And on the tailcoat of the issues with Mr. Brunton and Mr. Collins! And to add on top of this, the Harrington sisters are missing as well and there is some speculation that they may be with Lydia and Mr. Worthing (who also uses another name, Wickham, I believe) while others believe that they have themselves run off with two privates from the regulars who did not show up in Margate when the company moved just after Easter.

Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, and that she is lost to us entirely, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circumstances might make it necessary for concealment for a channel crossing and making their way to Paris to marry; and even if he could form such a _design_ against a young woman of Lydia's connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything?—Impossible. I grieve to find, however, that Colonel Forster is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared Worthing or Wickham was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill and keeps her room. Our poor father, his spirits had been recovering after the issues with Mr. Collins and the estate, and now this. This has affected him even more. Circumstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging for the assistance of our Uncle. I am not afraid of requesting it; I know my dear uncle and aunt so well and know they will wish to do all they can to help. My father and Colonel Forster have set out to try to track their movements, but there is only the presumption that they have fled to Dover and then on to Paris! What Papa means to do, I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster has other obligations. I feel that my uncle's advice and assistance would be everything in the world.

"Oh! where, where is my uncle?" cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him without losing a moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door, it was opened by the servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself enough to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia's situation, hastily exclaimed, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not a moment to lose."

"Good God! what is the matter?" cried he, with more feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, "I will not detain you a minute, but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough;—you cannot go yourself."

Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master home instantly.

On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to support herself, and looking so miserably ill that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, "Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief?—A glass of wine;—shall I get you one?—You are very ill," he did not know whether to stand or sit and instead paced on his toes in front of her.

"No, I thank you;" she replied, endeavoring to recover herself. "There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn."

She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say something indistinctly of his concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. He stopped his pacing and slide beside her, balancing on the arm of her chair, wishing for the world to hold her in his arms.

At length, she spoke again, her eyes fixed on her laps. "I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends—has eloped;—has thrown herself into the power of Mr. Worthing. I believe you said you never met him in your stay in Hertfordshire. He is a duplicitous man and apparently goes by the name of Mr. Wickham as well."

"Mr. Wickham!" cried Darcy who felt frozen on the spot, suddenly whisked from hearing her to conjuring up an image of Wickham before him.

"She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost forever."

Darcy was fixed in astonishment. "I am grieved, indeed," cried Darcy, and looked down at her, and she at last, turned her tear-stained face to his; "grieved—shocked. And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?"

"My father is gone to try and recover her, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!"

Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence as she poured her heart out to him. But he made no answer. Elizabeth could see a rapid series of thoughts pass through him, though they barely registered on his face. Their intimacy had, perhaps, taught her to read him. He stood up and began walking up and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted his air gloomy.

Elizabeth soon observed and instantly understood it. Her power was sinking; everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She should neither wonder nor condemn; he had passed up the opportunity they had before in Hertfordshire, and this event must give him pause and assure her that this was not a day to end with a joyful outcome. Such horrible events were, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.

Lydia—the humiliation, the misery, she was bringing on them all—soon swallowed up every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief, Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of several minutes, was only recalled to the room and her situation by the voice of her companion, who, in a manner, which though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said, "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to such distress!"

He readily assured her of his secrecy—again expressed his sorrow for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, and, leaving his compliments for her relations, with only one serious, parting, look, went away.

As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they should ever see each other again; and as she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those feelings which would now have promoted its continuance.

She saw him go with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia's infamy must produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched business. Never, since reading Jane's second letter, had she entertained a hope of Worthing's meaning to marry Lydia. No one but Jane, she thought, could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least of her feelings on this development; she was all surprise—all astonishment that Worthing should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment as this, she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey to such an unworthy man.

Elizabeth was wild to be at home—to hear, to see, to be upon the spot, to share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a family so deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion and requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing could be done for Lydia, her uncle's interference seemed of the utmost importance, and till he entered the room, the misery of her impatience was severe.

Her family and friend had hurried back in alarm, supposing, by the servant's account, that Elizabeth had taken suddenly ill;—but satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on the postscript of the last with trembling energy.—Though Lydia had never been a favorite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be deeply affected. Mr. Gardiner readily promised every assistance in his power.—Elizabeth, though expecting no less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was speedily settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. Catherine felt more of an outsider than previously, and could only offer her assistance and hope that she did not hamper her friends in any way.

Had Elizabeth been at leisure to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to be written to all their friends, with false excuses for their sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr. Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account at the inn, nothing remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth," said her uncle as they drove from Addington; "and really, upon serious consideration, I am much more inclined than I was to judge as Jane does of the matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or friendless, that I am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her father would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is not adequate to the risk."

"Do you really think so?" cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment. Catherine could only shake her head in disagreement.

"Upon my word," said Mrs. Gardiner, "I begin to be of your uncle's opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honor, and interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of Mr. Worthing. Can you, yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give him up as to believe him capable of it?"

"Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of neglecting decency and honor, I can believe him capable. But I dare not hope it.," and her shoulders sagged, "Why should they not go on to Scotland to marry, if that had been the case? Why this foray to Paris, I have never heard of such a venture!"

"In the first place," replied Mr. Gardiner, "there is no absolute proof that they are not gone to Scotland and then set off to Paris for their wedding trip."

"Oh! To be at home and know more details," she cried with something close to tears in her eyes, her friend put a steadying hand on her arm, "It is too vexing! Besides I cannot imagine that they would trouble themselves with a trip to Scotland and then on to Paris. Money cannot be ample between the two of them."

"And if I may inquire, why the mention in Jane's letter about the Harrington sisters? Are they involved in this business?" Catherine had a wrinkled brow as she watched the concerned faces of her friends.

"You would not suspect a man who was eloping with one woman would want two others to come along," mentioned Mrs. Gardiner, "Lydia cannot have meant for them to be a sort of bridal party."

"From Jane's letters the need for concealment sounds like a primary motivation for the man. I cannot fathom that the two sisters are at all involved in this venture," argued her husband. "And, then—supposing them to be traveling in as concealed manner as possible, how much farther ahead of your father are they and which of the Channel crossings did they take? Jane indicates your father is to try at Dover, but I fear he may only have the one chance to stop them before they cross," her uncle was looking gloomy, far more weighed down by this family news than he had when it was first revealed to him at the inn.

Elizabeth could not help but feel the true weight of the situation and its impact on all her family, even the Gardiners. "And why all this secrecy? Why running away in the dead of night? Why must their marriage be private? Oh! no, no, he is not likely to marry her. His colonel, you see by Jane's account, is not persuaded of his intending to marry her. And what claims has Lydia, what attractions has she beyond youth, health, and good humor, that could make him, for her sake, forgo a chance of benefiting himself by marrying well in some other part of the country? As to what disgrace in the corps he might befall with a dishonorable elopement, I am not able to judge; for I know nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But if he is wanted for desertion then I fear this slight on his character will not affect him. But as to your other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father's behavior, from his idleness and the little attention he has ever seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that he would do as little, and think as little about pursuing his daughter, as any father could do in such a matter."

"But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of Worthing, as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?"

"It does seem so, and it is most shocking indeed," replied Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes, "that a sister's sense of decency and virtue in such a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say. Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young; she has never been taught to think on serious subjects; and since the militia and the regulars have been encamped, she has been given up to nothing but amusement and vanity. Since there have been soldiers first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love, flirtation, and officers have been in her head. And we all know that Worthing has every charm of person and address that can captivate a woman. He certainly has pursued the society at Longbourn throughout the winter and has been a special favorite with both Lydia and Mamma."

"But you see that Jane," said her aunt, "does not think so ill of Worthing as to believe him capable of the attempt."

"Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be their former conduct, that she would believe capable of such an attempt, till it were proved against them?"

"If Colonel Forster has reprimanded him for desertion, then one assumes he must have proofs against the man."

"Though I doubt Jane would allow their strength until she saw them for herself," piped up Catherine. It was a truth they could all easily acknowledge.

"Lizzie," her uncle was peering at her with such a furrowed brow that his eyebrows ran across in one continuous line, "I have been thinking that we should make the most of our time. It makes no sense to waste time in returning to Longbourn if I am to only then turn back around to travel to Margate or Ramsgate in order to help discover your sister. I propose that we stop in London and you, Miss Parks and Mrs. Gardiner stay at the house whilst I ride immediately to Ramsgate in an attempt to find Lydia. I may save a full day with such an arrangement. It is possible that you, your aunt and your friend might travel on to Longbourn by post."

Elizabeth was silent while she considered her uncle's suggestions. She was wild to be at home, to be with Jane and Kitty, and to hear more complete news about Lydia and details of her father's plans, but she see the logic and necessity, even, in Mr. Gardiner turning towards the coast as quickly as possible. Before she could acquiesce to his suggestion, Catherine Parks spoke up.

"Mr. Gardiner," piped up Miss Parks, "if I might suggest, we could save another half day if we all turn towards Ramsgate now and forego even attempting to try for London."

"You cannot possibly come along. The venture would be too much for you. This is a balance I need to consider between my efforts in searching for Lydia and my considerations for your welfare. I cannot be worried for your accommodations wherever we may land, and your well-being while I am searching for her."

"I hate to hear you talk about women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives. This moment is not one to be concerned about our welfare when we are all joined with the express purpose of finding Lydia. Even if I am not family—I cannot but be concerned for Lizzie," and she turned to her friend, "and the Bennets, and for you," she cried," who have all been so good to me, and believe we should head east as fast as possible."

"Uncle, do not concern yourself with worrying about the quality of the pillow under our heads when it is Lydia's and our whole families' reputation that we are attempting to secure," cried Lizzie, who shot out a hand to squeeze Catherine's hand as she took up the argument. "I believe, in the strongest terms possible, that we should adopt this course, and head towards Ramsgate at once! Do not be uneasy about us, we are all joined to one purpose and not a moment is to be lost."

His wife joined in the discussion, and at the next town, they disembarked to eat a hurried meal and for Mr. Gardiner to dash off a few quick letters to inform Longbourn and Mr. Bennet of their change of plans. The carriage turned east, and however little novelty could be added to their fear, hopes and conjectures, on the same subject, by its repeated discussion, no other could detract them from it the whole of their trip to Ramsgate.

* * *

The smell of sea air permeated through the windows, and the travelers knew they were nearing their destination. They had made good time, but the weight of their troubles and the haste of their travel was wearing on them and all four looked forward to refreshing themselves and to a meal.

The first inn at which Mr. Gardiner inquired did not have sufficient room for them, so they were obliged to continue to seek another. Mr. Gardiner had a grave air about him as he explained the news, as if he feared this would be the case everywhere, and the carriage bumped on slowly, hampered by evening traffic in Ramsgate. The second inn, _The Spencer_, however, was located on Addington Street, which they all took to be a good sign, and which proved to have adequate accommodation for their needs.

The rooms were sufficient for their needs, and Elizabeth found that hers had a small window that looked fully east out to the sea; her eyes stood for a few mesmerizing moments as she watched looked out at the expanse of the sea and wondered at the day. So much had happened in one day, to think that Jane's letters had only been received that morning—and that her goodbyes to Mr. Darcy had been said that morning as well. So much _there_ had happened as well, their chance meeting in Rochester Castle: his bringing his sister to visit established his eagerness for their intimacy. Then everything that was wrong with the supper the previous evening. Why had she given any credence to Dr. Markham's story about the engagement, and instead, allowed her time to be spent not with Darcy, but playing the pianoforte all evening or being badgered by Lady Catherine.

She washed, knocked on Catherine's door to collect her friend and they made their way to a small parlor to eat. There was no private dining parlor for them at _The Spencer_, but the innkeeper had informed them that they were still in time to dine.

The parlor was still peopled with families and individuals lingering over supper. Many wore red coats, in fact the red coats out-numbered the small family groups. Elizabeth wondered if families dined earlier, or if there were more soldiers quartered at the inn, or if there were simply more soldiers in Ramsgate because of the troubling hostilities between England and France. Elizabeth was not like some of her female counterparts who refused to pay attention to political discussions and knew that war was looming. It struck her that should Lydia not be recovered on this side of the Channel, with the growing tensions, travel and searching for her in France would be well-nigh impossible. Perhaps that was part of Worthing's plan by going to Paris, rather than London, or Gretna Green, it certainly meant the certain ruin of Lydia if such was the case.

Conversation was difficult about sensitive topics in the public dining parlor, but keeping her voice down, she mentioned her fears to her companions.

"I will do all in my power to find her before they cross, Lizzie, do not give way to useless alarm," counseled her uncle, "your father is certainly at Dover by now, and we have saved a full day with Miss Park's recommendation, and after supper I shall begin searching."

"But they have a three-day's head start. If they meant to reach the coast and cross, surely they would have done so by now!"

"We need to ascertain whether they have crossed and where first, Lizzie. I will be off to make inquiries as soon as I can. Do you, or Miss Parks," and he turned to smile at Catherine who gave him an encouraging smile in return, "know anything of any family or contacts Worthing might have? We know neither Lydia nor Worthing has much money. The Channel crossing and travel costs must weigh on somebody's purse, so perhaps they have stopped to ask a relative for additional funds."

Catherine and Elizabeth looked at each other in thoughtful silence for many minutes while they recalled their many disjointed discussions with Mr. Worthing.

"He did mention he had borrowed money from relatives for the purchase of his commission, but that he had failed to pay it back. But he never mentioned where these relatives are located, so that is not much help," Catherine frowned.

"Perhaps after supper, Lizzie, you can write letters to Longbourn, and to your father in Dover about our situation and asking them for all the news. I fear Mr. Bennet is not one for regular correspondence, but Jane, at least might keep us informed of the news. Ask her for any details that she did not include in her original letter as well."

Mr. Gardiner finished his supper and excused himself, leaving the ladies to linger over theirs. There was nothing new to glean from covering the same points, but the women discussed it in low tones at their seats until roused by a familiar voice. Captain Yelverton stood politely looking at them.

Their surprise at his appearance was apparent, and he apologized for interrupting them, explaining that he had stopped to dine with a fellow officer, saw Miss Parks and Miss Bennet and wished to be cordial. Elizabeth introduced him to Mrs. Gardiner.

He explained that the regulars' new encampment was south of the city and that they were getting settled after their move. He added, "the Colonel will join us tomorrow, he has been visiting some relations in another part of Kent."

Elizabeth's mind instantly flew to Rosings and an image of both cousins appeared before her from the previous evening, the jovial Colonel Fitzwilliam and the more somber Mr. Darcy. Would Mr. Darcy be coming to Ramsgate with his cousin as well? What would his sister do? She could not travel to the regulars' encampment as well, such an idea would be preposterous, thought Elizabeth, so no chance encounter with Mr. Darcy was to be had in Ramsgate.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

_A/N: updated/completed chapter._

The ladies could not retire until Mr. Gardiner returned; however, there was no public parlor at The Spencer that was sufficient for the three of them to wait in, so they retired to the tiny sitting room of Mrs. Gardiner's to await his return. The evening turned into night before Mr. Gardiner returned with his face as somber looking as when he had first heard the news about Lydia. He reported that his initial inquiries had not been positive and that most of the town was occupied with getting the encampments of soldiers and their officers settled—for there was more than one regiment of soldiers gathered at the coast.

Mr. Gardiner expressed his concern about the comfort and welfare of the ladies, but again they assured him that the accommodations were sufficient, and that the search for Lydia was all any of them had on their minds.

Wearily, Elizabeth and Catherine retired.

Breakfast was a subdued affair and Mr. Gardiner again headed out to make inquiries shortly afterwards.

The day was gray, which suited all of their moods. None of the ladies wished to shop, so they headed for the Ramsgate harbor. The harbor bustled with activity; sailors repairing nets and other parts of boats; men unloading ships; merchants loading carts and the noise and activity level were such that was impossible not to stand and simply gaze at all of the activity that was transpiring before them. Mrs. Gardiner eventually called her charges away as it became apparent that the place was not entirely suitable for ladies.

The area near the harbor was devoted mostly to businesses, imports, mercantile, and the activity there was equally as bustling. Whether it was the threat of the war, and men were preparing for that seeming inevitability, or whether merchants were importing what goods from France they could now, before ports were closed to them was not to be discerned. They strolled away, with the shoreline at one side and keeping an eye on the darkness of the clouds.

Lizzie expressed frustration over the lack of information that they had over the situation with Lydia.

"It may take days for letters to be re-directed to us from Jane, and who knows where she and Worthing could have traveled or sailed to by then!"

"Perhaps, but once Jane receives your note from yesterday, she will know to direct the new ones to us here," offered her aunt, "It may be that her new letters beat her old—and may only take a day or two to reach you from Hertfordshire. The roads are dry and the weather has been with us, until today," she added looking up at the sky.

"Yes, which means it has also benefitted our runaways. I am impatient for news and impatient to be doing something. I cannot but feel helpless and hopeless letting Mr. Gardiner search without our help. Oh! That we had a brother, or another uncle or older male cousins to help us with the search!" she cried with much feeling.

"Perhaps your Uncle Phillips may be helping? We do not know, we have gained time with Catherine's suggestion," and she smiled at Miss Parks who had a firm grip on Elizabeth's arm, "and surely someone has to have seen or heard something of them. If your uncle has no luck here, then it might be that your father and Colonel Forster have found them in Dover. Do not despair, but keep hoping."

They continued on their walk, finally turning into the town past little shop windows displaying an assortment of goods that belied the smallness of the town. The light continued to wane as the clouds grew increasingly gloomy, threatening their first rain in many days, and Lizzie looked for a place to drink tea when she noticed a goods shop with a beautiful display of ribbons in the window. A light drizzle began to fall as she gazed at the wide array of ribbons, more than she had seen in any shop window yet in their travels. She was amazed that such a collection should be had in a shop in a port town, but then her eyes alighted on a particular one which in color and design exactly matched the description which Lydia had given her.

Tears began rolling down her cheeks, and Catherine squeezed her arm.

"What is the matter dearest, are you unwell?"

"The ribbon," she pointed, trying to keep her voice even, "that is the ribbon that Lydia wanted." And she covered her face with her free hand as all the events of the previous two days caught up with her. Her aunt came up to shield her from passers-by and spying a small tea shop a few doors away, gently directed the group inside.

The owner indicated a seat by the large front window, but Mrs. Gardiner pointed to one in a quiet corner and they were seated and she ordered for them.

Elizabeth was able to compose herself, especially as neither Aunt Gardiner nor Catherine fussed over her while she wiped at her tears with her handkerchief.

"We will be able to go back and purchase the ribbon, if you wish, after we have refreshed ourselves," said Mrs. Gardiner.

"It seems we made it inside just in time," added Catherine, as the rain had turned from a drizzle to a continual stream outside.

"It has been so much to go through," began Elizabeth.

"I am sure they will recover Lydia," soothed Catherine and Mrs. Gardiner.

"But it is not just Lydia," and she looked at her aunt and her friend. Catherine's eyes opened in surprise; Mrs. Gardiner sat patiently as the tea was served.

"I have been hoping you would bring up our experiences in Addington." It was a simple statement from her aunt, one that could be left to be interpreted any number of ways. They could discuss their experiences for the last few days of their travel in a very polite manner, or, as Mrs. Gardiner was hoping, they could discuss Mr. Darcy and Dr. Markham.

Catherine's eye opened even wider and she shook her head to indicate her wishes. Elizabeth nodded her head slightly.

"I have no understanding with Mr. Darcy," she began with a steadfast eye on her teacup, "it seems we cannot behave as other lovers and hide in a corner to talk, but only find stolen moments when we meet each other out of doors." And she went on to explain to her aunt that when they meet each other in society that something always seemed to go amiss with their conversations, as had happened at Rosings—she did not wish to be open about her misunderstanding about Darcy's supposed engagement—and so, she was unsure that there was truly anything between her and the gentleman from Derbyshire. There had been much left unsaid during their final meeting, because of the matter of Lydia and Worthing, which seemed to concern Mr. Darcy as well.

"I do not want to encourage you, for such a great man as Mr. Darcy has other reasons for marrying besides love, Lizzie, but he certainly is in love with you. That much I can tell from observation. His behavior our night together was certainly a man who felt cheated by chance, and seating arrangements, and, if I may say, an imperial aunt, who had other ideas as to where he should sit and who he should talk to, when all evening his eyes were on you, and you alone."

Elizabeth was too embarrassed to say anything in response. Catherine had a stony face—it was impossible to tell if she was jealous at the insight Mrs. Gardiner provided Lizzie, or if she wanted to hear her own observations about Dr. Markham.

They raised their umbrellas and made their way to the ribbon shop. It was empty inside and the owner was effusive in his greetings. Elizabeth indicated her ribbon choice and her yardage amount—eleven yards—and was disappointed to hear that there was only about nine available.

"There was twenty total," he indicated, "but I had a young lady purchase eleven yards just the other day."

Elizabeth was disappointed, but purchased the nine yards and they made their way back to _The Spencer._

* * *

An anxious Mr. Gardiner was waiting for them for their midday meal back at the inn. He had no new news to impart, but was concerned, given the profusion of soldiers, and not all of them officers, for their safety. He said he had run into Captain Yelverton again that morning, and suggested that the ladies use him to escort them around the town while Mr. Gardiner continued his inquires for Lydia.

The afternoon post brought a letter from Mr. Bennet. They were all surprised by the correspondent, as Mr. Bennet was not known for being a good letter writer at the best of times, so that he had taken the trouble was a good sign, though it indicated the severity of the issues at-hand. It was addressed to his brother, was short, and contained a few more details about Lydia and Worthing's disappearance. He had traced Worthing from Meryton through London to Dartford, but had been unable to ascertain whether, when they had changed horses, they had headed to Dover or Ramsgate, so it had been fortuitous that Mr. Gardiner was in Ramsgate searching for them there. He indicated that only Mr. Worthing was ever seen making inquiries as to coaches, so there had been on confirmation that Lydia was, for sure, with him.

Colonel Forster had returned to his regiment, as they were preparing to move to Brighton, but had indicated that the case against Mr. Worthing was particularly bad. He had left the regulars in disgrace, though this had not been know when he was able to sell his commission. His regiment had spent so much time overseas, that word of his conduct had not reached the homeland. It was known that he had accepted a lower-ranking position in the militia than he had in the regulars, but Worthing's reasons on that had been that he had seen so much action, that he wished to come home, away from foreign lands and fighting, for peace and society. That it really was Mr. Worthing who had run away with Lydia was another issue, as one of the privates—with whom he frequented inns for drinks, apparently—had information about his hiding away these previous weeks, but having been seen meeting Lydia on walks on the outskirts of Longbourn estate, or in the Old Park Woods.

Their spirits were at a low that evening, with all four looking forward to the morning's post. It brought only one letter from Jane, but Elizabeth opened it eagerly, passing it around, for she dared not read it aloud in the public dining parlor.

It was not known that Worthing had a single relation with whom he kept up any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. The issue over the original purchase of his commission in the regulars had been one that had caused him to break ties with his only family according to his own intelligence. His former acquaintance had been numerous; but since he had been in the militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship with any of them. There was no one therefore who could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own finances there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery by Lydia's relations, for it had transpired that he had left gaming debts behind him in Meryton and Stevenage, to a very considerable amount. He owed a good deal in the towns, but his debts of honor were still more formidable.

While Jane wrote with her usual compunction, Elizabeth was grieved to know the extent of the burden she must be bearing at Longbourn, and hoped that Kitty was able to provide some relief to offset the hysterics that were sure to be part and parcel of her mother's daily activities.

It was also becoming increasingly obvious that he was not Mr. Worthing, but Mr. Wickham, having adopted the name Worthing—and how incongruous a name!—when he had returned to England and sold his commission in the regulars. And the infamy of this Mr. Wickham was catching up with him, as the same stories were coming in about Mr. Wickham to Meryton that were being oft repeated in the streets about the known Mr. Worthing. All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man, who, but months before, had been almost an angel of light, especially amongst the young ladies. He was declared to be in debt to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honored with the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman's family. Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the appearance of his goodness. To Catherine's credit, she never once, either upon reading the letter, or later, ever said anything about being justified in her suspicions of his character.

There was a final postscript that Bingley had been called away on business, rather quickly, noted Jane. And also, and this she found most peculiar, Miss Darcy was to come back to Netherfield to stay with Miss Bingley. Kitty and Georgiana Darcy had developed a friendship, so Kitty was looking forward to seeing more of her friend. Lizzie wondered that her own sister might know Mr. Darcy's sister better than she. How much had Jane been seeing of Mr. Bingley, also, to know such details, wondered Elizabeth.

* * *

The day had dawned bright as if the weather would mock their moods. Mr. Gardiner was guarded with his plans for the day, but again reiterated that he wished that the ladies only walk around town with an escort since there was such a surfeit of soldiers—and not all of them officers and gentlemen. It seemed that many more companies of soldiers were being moved to the town, almost daily, with the very real hint of war and that the short peace between Britain and France was to soon come to an end.

The morning was long and dull; inside was the company of strangers in the public rooms, or Mrs. Gardiner's cramped sitting room and too much conversation about Lydia. Their note to Captain Yelverton was not answered quickly, so it was not until mid-afternoon—Mr. Gardiner having not returned for his meal—that he arrived, with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Elizabeth was surprised to see the Colonel in Ramsgate having just seen him at Rosings Park just a few days before—and having left in a hurry with false excuses on her side for their flight. The greetings were exceedingly polite on all sides, and the suggestion of a walk was accepted by the two younger ladies. The talk amongst the four of them was limited to the weather—the interesting turn from rain—and the discussion on all sides of whether there was anything to see in the town. No one had visited the town before, so there were no suggestions and the conversation faltered. Both women had found the gentlemen previously easy to converse with, so it was a difficult walk, and Catherine suggested, sooner than they wished, to return to the inn.

A servant indicated that Mr. Gardiner had returned and that he and his wife were up in their rooms. Elizabeth was torn between wanting news and not wishing to intrude upon two people to whom she had been so indebted. The red-coated gentlemen suggested refreshments, so they accepted and sat again through another discussion of indifferent English weather.

At last, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner appeared, and his demeanor was such, that Elizabeth knew he had news of Lydia; she could almost cry out to him across the room, but said polite goodbyes to the two gentlemen after the Gardiners had gained the table.

"I have news, Lizzie," he whispered, "come up to the sitting room, you too Catherine."

Once settled on the only four seats in the room, he said. "Lizzie, I need your help. I have seen Worthing, or I should say Wickham, and he has agreed to let me speak to Lydia and the Harrington sisters. For odd as it seems, it appears they _have_ come away on this little adventure as well. I was hoping you could persuade all three to come away with us; their youthful enthusiasm is such that Mrs. Gardiner may not be the best person in this case to do it." He nodded to his wife who smiled at him, years of marriage underlying an understanding between them such that no offense was taken by Mrs. Gardiner.

"Once we have seen and talked with them, we may then discover our next course of action. Worthing and Lydia are not married. They have apparently little in the way of funds left and with the port is so busy the ships appear to be importing _from_ _France_ but few are actually going _from Ramsgate_ back directly but are making other port calls in England first. Plus the price of tickets has increased which he did not anticipate. He readily admitted to having no intentions to marry Lydia but her surprising him with the Harrington sisters put a stumbling block on his plans. He tried to scarper at the beginning but found all three women in the coach at the appointed meeting time and short of bodily throwing them all out did not know what to do."

Elizabeth was a mixture of emotion at the news but was motivated after so many days of anxiety and waiting that she was impatient to go to her sister. Mr. Gardiner said he needed to arrange the details and he left again, still without partaking of supper.

No one could think of eating and the ladies remained to Mrs. Gardiner's sitting room.

* * *

The sky was darkening as night settled over Ramsgate when Mr. Gardiner, Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam walked out into the streets. The shadows in the streets made them almost dark tunnels even though the sky was still somewhat light above.

"Does he know our business?" she whispered to her uncle with some real concern.

"Yes, he has been helping with our inquires, and it was through his efforts that we were able to locate Worthing/Wickham. You know the Colonel well, Lizzie, and may rely on his discretion."

It was not _his_ discretion which concerned her, but of the matter ever getting back to Mr. Darcy. If what Mrs. Gardiner said, and knowing it to be true of "great men" in general, they marry for reasons other than love. Such a scandal as this might be too much for Mr. Darcy to bear.

Elizabeth was surprised that they stopped at a house and not a hotel. It was answered by a woman who looked to be the owner and not the servant. With an expressionless face, she simply nodded and stood back a little ways but was surprised as Elizabeth followed Mr. Gardiner and the Colonel through the door. There was a tiny, dark parlor on the right that they passed, but walked towards the back of the house. A door opened into a slightly larger sitting room where Lydia and Penelope and Harriet Harrington sat by the fire. Mr. Wickham was not in attendance.

"Lizzie!"

"Lydia," and they hugged. Elizabeth then hugged both of the sisters. Harriet began crying rather quickly and rather longingly repeated "I want to go home." Penelope said she too wished to go home.

"But we've had such fun! This has been such an adventure!" protested Lydia who seemed shocked by her friends' disclosures. "Oh Lizzie—what did Mamma say after reading my note?" she laughed with that girlish laugh she so often used when flirting with officers.

"I do not know; I have not been to Longbourn yet. We have come in pursuit of you as soon as heard the news."

"Oh."

"Lydia, we are prepared to take you all away with us tonight," spoke up Mr. Gardiner from the back of the room.

"Oh."

"I am negotiating with Mr. Worthing about this incident and he has indicated he has no desire and never had any desire or intention of marrying you."

"Oh."

Lizzie took Harriet—who continued to weep—and Penelope to sit on a small wooden settee at the end of the room away from the fireplace where Lydia stayed; Mr. Gardiner walked up to speak to her.

"Lydia, Mr. Worthing, or rather Wickham, had no intention of marrying you," he repeated."And this episode must seriously damage your prospects for marriage later on. I want to know what your intentions were in this foolish adventure. For if I must, I will insist that he marry you to make you a respectable woman."

"He has not proved as much fun as I thought he would be," she pouted. "He was most cross with me when I brought Harriet and Penelope along for I wanted them to come see Paris with me. He said he had lots of money, how was I to know he hadn't any money at all?"

Mr. Gardiner looked across the room to where Elizabeth sat with the two sisters then at Colonel Fitzwilliam who had so melted into a corner that he was difficult to distinguish in the candlelight.

"I must ask you Lydia, did you, … did you sleep in the same chamber as Mr. Worthing?" Penelope stifled a giggle when Lizzie put a firm hand on her lap.

"Oh no. Harriet and Pen and I all shared one tiny room our first night when we arrived here. Then, once Worthing talked with his friend Mrs. Younge and procured lodgings for us here; we have hardly seen him." She paused and looked at him earnestly, her face lit by the fire, "It is not quite the adventure I imagined. He drinks ever so many spirits!"

"Did he ever say to you why he wanted you to come away with him?"

"He said I liked fun and would appreciate the adventure." And then she was thoughtful for a long while. The fire log broke apart in the hearth which roused Lydia from her thoughts. "He has talked some about father and Longbourn and how it is entailed. He did once say wouldn't it be grand if _I_ was mistress of Longbourn and he could be the master." She looked at her uncle's face, "but I am the youngest, I don't know how that would be possible?"

"Did he ever say anything else about the Longbourn inheritance?"

"He was always going on about what fool Mr. Brunton was, but he did seem to think that the law could be changed. I remember now, at one of Mamma's parties he said he thought father was a fool too, and that he _could_ have gotten the entail amended long ago to favor Jane or any one of us."

"I am not sure his knowledge of the law is correct Lydia," he looked at her as she seemed to be considering what life as mistress of Longbourn would mean—an even better adventure than being surrounded by men in red coats as it entailed a great deal more pin money. "Lydia, it is time to go. If you leave with us now, there will be no marriage to Mr. Worthing who is really Mr. Wickham, do you understand?"

Elizabeth watched her youngest sister as struggled to come to terms with the reality of the situation which was so very different from the 'adventure' she had obviously imaged. Enough of the reality of life with Mr. Worthing or Mr. Wickham motivated her to nod her head and whisper her agreement to follow her uncle out the door.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

_A/N: note updated chapter 34- was updated over a week ago, but apparently the system does not notify you'all if a chapter was changed/updated. Sorry this has been a long time in coming; I sort of wrote myself into a corner, having so many balls in the air, and I had much to resolve._

* * *

One room was left at the _Spencer,_ and a tearful Harriet and Penelope were ensconced in that room. There were few bags or luggage between them, as Lydia had not been quite clear with her friends about the plans for their collective trip and what it was to entail, so the party was able to return without any other assistance than that of the steadfast Colonel's and their uncle's capable arms. While the streets were not empty, they were not hailed or otherwise disturbed on the dark avenues as they made their way back to the hotel.

Harriet was terrified of being left alone, and Mrs. Gardiner, mother to four, came to sit with the Harrington sisters for the night.

Lydia was to share with Elizabeth, and appeared to be conflicted about both sharing a bed and having to end her adventure. Catherine had knocked and asked if there was anything that was needed and her appearance seemed to have sobered Lydia more than the lectures from Uncle Gardiner had about the foolishness of her behavior. Lydia coldly replied she needed nothing and crawled into the bed.

Elizabeth was slow to undress and crawl in next to her sister. Her happiness at the recovery of her sister was complicated with the knowledge that the whole Harrington family was now involved in her sister's fallacy, and wondering at the implications that this episode would hold for all of their marriage prospects, as she considered whether any decent gentleman would ever offer for her youngest sister—and would they offer for either of the Harrington girls as well?

Mrs. Harrington, a widow, must be beside herself with the loss of two daughters, not just one. And with no husband to search for the missing girls, Elizabeth now wondered who had been attempting to track down Penelope and Harriet. Lizzie had certainly not given them any thought, nor had any of her family. She blushed as she recalled her uncle dismissing the idea that they had all disappeared together. Even on their return to the inn, she had not immediately thought to remind Mr. Gardiner to also write to Mrs. Harrington about her daughters when her uncle had settled for the extra room, thanked the still silent Colonel for his help, and headed for his own room to write Longbourn the news.

When the cold creeping in from the cracks of the window drove her to the bed, she felt Lydia stir, and turn towards her. "Lizzie, why is Catherine here?"

"We were traveling with the Gardiners as you know. As soon as we heard about your running away, we came to find you."

"Why did she not stay behind when you came to look for me?"

Lizzie rolled over, but could not see her sister properly. "We were in the area, in Kent, and nearby; there was no thought of leaving her behind. In fact, it was her idea to come directly to look for you. Uncle Gardiner wanted to take us—Catherine, Aunt Gardiner and me—to Longbourn first before he searched for you, but she suggested we come here directly to save time."

"Oh."

"Lydia, why the questions about Catherine?"

There was another long pause. "Do you love her more than me Lizzie?"

"Oh Lydia, no dearest! You cannot know how grieved I have been for you. You are my beloved sister and your welfare will always been my concern. Catherine shares that with me. She cannot take your place; I have enough love for both of you. For I have come to value her as a sister, but know, she cannot replace you, or Jane or Kitty, for you are each unique and dear to me, in your own way."

Lydia settled down again under the bed clothes. "What did Uncle Gardiner mean that my chances of marrying later have been damaged? All I did was have a little fun Lizzie, how can there be any harm in that?"

Elizabeth was silent for a time in considering how to answer her sister.

"Lydia, I fear I am going to sound like our poor departed sister Mary. You will probably consider it moralizing, and not head one word in ten, but such an adventure as this; and one on which you have dragged others on as well, is one that will materially lessen your chance of ever marrying. I fear that no man would consider marrying a woman who was willing to run away with, and not be properly married to, a man. You are a gentleman's daughter, Lydia, and with that rank, though you may never have valued it before, is an enviable position to be in. But society requires us to follow certain rules and punishes us when we stray."

"But it was just a bit of fun! I wanted to have my fun before I married, but I meant to settle down and marry some day. I have always wanted to marry, Lizzie."

"There are many ways to enjoy life Lydia, but running away with a man to whom you are neither engaged nor married is not one which society deems appropriate or fitting for a gentleman's daughter. I fear our uncle is correct, and that you are not likely to find a husband now."

Lydia burst into tears and Elizabeth found herself soothing her youngest sister as if she were a toddler, who after insisting on having her way about something, has discovered she cannot handle it—like a child who insists on riding a pony, and cries because it is too scary once in the saddle.

* * *

Their plan was to remove from Ramsgate to a nearby town that could afford better accommodations as they needed to work out how to get the entire party back to Meryton. Mr. Gardiner hired a hackney to accommodate the additional bodies, and they rode to Sturry, which was just outside of Canterbury, the first town which afforded appropriate lodgings, according to his taste.

To his credit, Mr. Gardiner had indeed written to Mrs. Harrington about the recovery of her daughters. He wanted to be able to return the two sisters to Meryton, but also wanted to do so in as less intrusive way as possible, that news of their arrival might not be broadcast to every individual in the neighborhood before they returned. For news of their arrival would also bring news of all three ladies' involvement with Mr. Wickham, and Mr. Gardiner wished to spare them as much scrutiny as he possibly could.

To enter Meryton without the whole town knowing meant he could not inform his sister of their arrival, so he had urged discretion on his brother's part when he had written Mr. Bennet a letter the previous night.

After feeling disheartened by the shortage of letters, Lizzie had two find their way to her after their meal, one from Jane and one from Kitty. They were both dated from three days ago. Elizabeth opened Jane's first. There was old news that nothing had been heard of Lydia. There were additional reports of debts and misconduct on the part of Mr. Wickham, as she was beginning to think of him. Elizabeth could only hurry through the reading of this news. Jane did mention that the senior Mr. Goulding was helping Mrs. Harrington in the inquiries about her daughters, despite the imminent marriage of Amy, which was almost a fortnight away. She ended by mentioning Mr. Bingley's return to the area, and that he had called at Longbourn.

Kitty's letter, like previous ones, was less polite than Jane's but contained more details on how Meryton society was viewing the Bennet's situation. Families in town had not been kind to the Bennet family, and Mrs. Bennet, as Elizabeth had expected, had taken to her bed with tears and lamentations, and there she stayed, claiming illness. Kitty and Jane took turns waiting on her, if Aunt Phillips was not visiting from town—though their aunt was always bringing unpleasant news. There was a sense in Meryton, that the Bennet family was always at the center of gossip and news, especially after the recent scandal with Mr. Collins and Mr. Brunton.

Mr. Collins supported his master and urged Christian charity on any who asked, and Reverend Vickers had taken up the call, so there were some in Meryton who seemed to feel their misfortune was not justified and thought kindly of the Bennets. The Mary Bennet Memorial School had been a successful entre into the community, so some, especially those who had benefited from it, were inclined to be more tolerant about their misfortunes. The schoolmaster, Mr. Hobson, had been chosen well, and had been well received.

Kitty ended with saying that "John had been very kind in supporting us and urging his father to do the same. We all know that Sir William is so well regarded that if he remains on our side then we shall always have our respectability."

Lizzie wondered at Kitty's mention of John Lucas' Christian name in the letter but was recalled to her surroundings by her aunt and uncle who wanted to confer with her on the plans to return to Hertfordshire. The trip could be made in two days, after securing a second carriage. And with the information provided by Jane, they decided to write to Mr. Goulding and head for Tilsworth Hall as it lay at the farthest edge of Meryton. They could attempt to circumvent the town and arrive in Meryton as discreetly as possible.

* * *

Their plans worked, and they were able to arrive at Tilsworth without passing through Meryton proper. Mrs. Harrington and Mr. Bennet, by arrangement, were waiting to meet them.

Elizabeth felt that the senior Mr. Goulding had much credit as a gentleman to arrange such matters in light of his daughters approaching nuptials and decided he must be a symbol of superior manners and behavior.

The reunion was quite noisy, and many tears were shed by the women.

While Mrs. Harrington was charitable to Mr. Goulding and his family, she was almost hostile to Mr. Bennet and could not speak at all to Lydia. Lydia did shed tears, but only after hearing Mrs. Harrington's opinion of her: she felt her family should throw her on the streets and for her to come upon the town for such a sin as running off with a man and for dragging her daughters with her on that 'little adventure.'

The Bennet and Gardiner family left for Longbourn, and Mr. Goulding and his carriage were to see the Harrington family to their small house in town.

Elizabeth jumped out at the sight of her home; and hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running down stairs from her mother's apartment, immediately met her.

Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking Jane if she knew the news, and that Lydia and the Harrington sisters were recovered.

"We had his letter this morning and have been waiting for the news of your arrival. It has been difficult to keep the news that Lydia is recovered from Mamma, as our uncle instructed," replied Jane. "But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope everything will be well and all will return to normal."

They were walking into the drawing room where Mr. Bennet and their uncle and aunt were gathered with Lydia and Kitty and Catherine. Lydia was loudly relating her time away to Kitty who did not appear to appreciate the tale.

"And my mother - How is she?"

"My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits have been greatly shaken. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room."

"But you - How are you?" cried Elizabeth. "You look pale. How much you must have gone through!"

Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well.

"Is Mr. Bingley still in town?" ventured Lizzie.

"Yes, he came back again soon after he left. He escorted Miss Darcy to Netherfield for a visit. She has been a most welcome addition to our neighborhood society, but we must not be discussing Meryton news. Mamma must be told that we have recovered Lydia!"

Lydia turned at the sound of her name.

"Mamma! I must go to her!" Most of the family retired to Mrs. Bennet's room, Catherine and Kitty staying in the drawing room with Mrs. Gardiner.

Aunt Phillips was sitting with Mrs. Bennet when they arrived in her rooms and the two elderly sisters cried and screamed over the presence of the youngest Bennet daughter. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself, her joy at the return of her beloved Lydia was to know no bounds.

"But where is Mr. Worthing, my dear," and she looked at her brother and her husband, "are they not married?"

Her brother indicated that they were not married and began an attempt to explain the circumstances, but Mrs. Bennet forestalled the explanations with loud lamentations. "But you must make them marry, what about poor Lydia's reputation! Mr. Bennet, or you dear brother, must challenge Mr. Worthing to a duel and make them marry! What will the neighborhood think of us, if Lydia comes home unmarried?"

Elizabeth tugged Jane's hand and they quietly exited their mother's rooms while they went to order a fresh pot of tea.

* * *

"If we are ever able to learn what Wickham's debts have been," began Elizabeth, but she was interrupted by Kitty.

"Who is Wickham?"

"That is his real name, for he adopted 'Worthing' when he removed from the regulars to the militia. If we are to know what his debts are, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own, we should know the extent of his wickedness. I have been feeling uncomfortable about taking Lydia away with us since we have left Ramsgate, and whether she ought to have married him. Would it have been better for the Harrington sisters if a marriage had been arranged? Does this now condemn them all to a dim light as far as their prospects for marriage or their future life? Loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable in society's eyes. Does Lydia's behavior now taint Penelope and Harriet's as well?"

"I would hope and trust that they would be happy if such a marriage did take place," said Jane, "there must have been some mutual affection for their fleeing together in the first place. They would strive, if married to settle quietly and live rationally."

Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner felt that only Jane could express such a sentiment in light of all the information that she had relayed in her letters about Mr. Wickham's distressing circumstances.

"What is to happen to him as well? With all of these stories about his wickedness, does anything amount to behavior that will cause him to be brought before a magistrate like Mr. Brunton? Does the family have to face that prospect as well? What will he do now, where will he go? I am sure that Colonel Forster will wish to know of the whereabouts of his ensign. "

There was much to discuss.

* * *

Despite the lateness of the house, Elizabeth was still awake. A surfeit of thoughts and sensibilities about the previous week—and the days in Addington and Rosings Park—did not allow her to sleep. A noise at the door proved a welcome relief, as she looked forward to being able to speak to Catherine about the situation with Lydia and the Harrringtons. How valuable her friend had become, she realized, when during the previous three days—since Lydia's discover— there had been no chance for intimate discussion.

Lydia poked her head around the door and seeing that Elizabeth was awake, entered with her candle smoking and sputtering.

"It feels so good to be home; I feel as if I have been gone a month at least! You were gone such a long time to Bath and then on your trip with the Gardiners—you missed so much of what has been happening in the neighborhood this spring, Lizzie. All that unpleasantness with Mr. Collins and Mr. Brunton, and Uncle Phillips going on and on about being discreet every time he came to talk to Papa about it." She crawled, uninvited, upon Elizabeth's bed. The candle was balanced precariously in her hand and Elizabeth took it and put it next to her own.

"And Mary King is engaged, and now that the entail has changed, every gentleman, yeoman farmer and redcoat has set his cap on Jane. She will have no problem getting a husband."

"Jane being the heiress of Longbourn is of a benefit for all of us, Lydia. It will mean we do not have to leave whenever we lose Papa, our futures are all brighter because of it, not just Jane's future."

"Lizzie, I never accounted to you the night we all ran off, and of the surprise we gave Mr. Worthing when he leapt into the carriage, only to discover that Pen and Harriet were with me."

"No really," replied Elizabeth; "I think there cannot be too little said on the subject."

"La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were to meet just outside the Old Park Woods, there is a little pathway that leads into the woods, and he had a carriage waiting for us."

"Really, Lydia, I do not wish to hear an account of your days," began Elizabeth.

"Oh, but there really is not much to tell, Lizzie, beyond our surprising Worthing, and journeying to Ramsgate. That first night was so cramped, all three of us in a tiny bed, and then moving to our quarters with Mrs. Younge. She is not the most pleasant woman, by-the-bye, and seemed to begrudge having to prepare meals for all of us. We did not once put foot out of doors; it was just me and Pen and Harriet and that Mrs. Younge in the house, as we had no idea of how to get about Ramsgate, and Mr. Worthing never took us anywhere. I could only sit and dream of Paris, and wait for the boat that would take us over—Worthing kept promising it would come any day. I began to grow so bored, thinking we would never get across the Channel! Or that Papa would come and take me away before I had my fun," she paused," and then I was really put out when Mr. Darcy showed up the one day Worthing finally agreed to at least walk us down to the harbor to see the sea. And they were shut up so long together that we never did get out for our walk." Lydia slumped back in bed and hit her head against the headboard so she missed the exclamation from Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy!" repeated Elizabeth, in what she hoped was an even tone.

"Oh, yes!—he met with Worthing ever so long. I suspect that Mr. Darcy gave him some money as we had a much better meal at dinner, and Worthing drank ever so many more spirits! But gracious me! I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them so faithfully! It was to be such a secret! I was not to mention seeing Mr. Darcy."

"If it was to be secret," said Lizzie, "say not another word on the subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further."

"Thank you," said Lydia, "for I am determined to try to mend my ways after this episode, beginning with keeping my promises. If what you say is true; I shall have to work extra hard now to secure a husband." She leaned over to peck her sister on the cheek.

Elizabeth suggested she trim her candle before she went, as it continued to smoke and sputter. Passing Lydia her scissors, the wick was trimmed and Lydia departed, her light restored.


End file.
